FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 
A  Drama 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK   •    BOSTON   •     CHICAGO   •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA   •    SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON   •    BOMBAY   •    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


FLORENCE   NIGHTINGALE 

A    Dr am  a 


BY 
EDITH  GITTINGS  REID 


gotfc 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1923 

All  rights 


FEINTED   IN   THE  UNITED   STATES   OP  AMERICA 


COPYRIGHT,  1922, 
BY  THE   MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  printed.     Published  September,  1922. 


Press  of 

J.  J.  Little  &  Ives  Company 
New  York,  U.  S.  A. 


TO 

SUSAN  THAYER 

TODAY   IS   AS  YESTERDAY 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

A  distinguished  mind,  clear,  eminently  practical  and 
thoroughly  trained;  a  driving  will,  and  a  heart  to  use  all 
her  powers  for  humanitarian  purposes — such  in  part,  was 
Florence  Nightingale,  for  whose  achievements  the  world 
honored  the  centenary  of  her  birth  on^May  12,  1920. 

"Here  am  I — send  me."  That  was  the  slogan  ,of  her 
life.  Her  personality  stands  out  in  a  bright,  chadowless 
light.  Her  feet  were  always  on  the  ground,  she  never 
attempted  the  impossible,  never  made  a  situation,  never 
overstepped  a  situation.  She  met  existing  circumstances 
with  executive  genius  and  energy,  quickly  seeing  the  trend 
of  affairs;  she  used  every  available  instrument  and  op 
portunity  to  turn  the  tide  her  way,  to  start  her  ideals  on 
a  resistless  current.  In  her  composition  there  was  little 
of  the  animal  nature.  Intense  and  passionate,  yes;  but 
intellectually  and  morally  so.  For  thirty  years  of  her 
life  she  entered  into  a  very  cloister  of  work.  In  early 
womanhood  she  hovered  about  the  border  of  woman's  nat 
ural  destiny,  but  she  only  hovered.  The  straight  flight 
of  her  life  was  early  taken  and  never  deviated  from. 

The  temper  of  the  prophets  of  Israel  was  hers  when  she 
wished  to  inspire — or  denounce.  Her  religion  was  mod- 

7 


8  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

ern;  she  believed  in  work  and  in  the  Charity  that  made 
no  discrimination  as  to  creeds.  Jew  or  Gentile,  Catholic 
or  Protestant,  it  was  all  one  to  her,  provided  they  were 
worth  while  in  themselves  and  met  their  obligations,  for 
she  belonged  to  the  class  of  the  great  executives.  As  she 
was  a  leader,  she  differentiated  from  the  type.  Most  ex 
ecutives  are  ruthless;  she  was  not.  Most  executives  want 
personal  recognition;  she  did  not.  The  selflessness  to  a 
cause,  that  usually  goes  with  the  mystic  and  rarely  with 
the  practical  person  of  affairs,  was  amazingly  her  atti 
tude.  Never  co.ulfl  there  possibly  have  been  anyone  who 
'•••'ckred  f^s:fp.r:whkt  came  to  her  personally.  She  cared 
Qnly  th<&  things  should  be  done,  and  rightly  done,  and 
:*\!  :^eVm*anehtfy..flone,*»and  to  have  a  reform  thoroughly 
established.  She  would  have  swept  the  stakes  into  any 
hands  she  thought  more  efficient  than  her  own.  She 
would  have  cut  off  her  own  if  by  so  doing  she  would 
have  bettered  her  cause.  Humanity  never  had  more 
tireless  servants  than  those  hands,  or  hands  controlled 
by  an  abler  mind.  Skillfully  as  she  made  others  work, 
she  always  took  the  main  burden  upon  herself. 

In  most  sketches  made  of  her  we  get  a  very  one-sided 
portrait,  because  the  different  sides  of  her  character  are 
so  forceful  that  each  in  turn  rivets  the  attention  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  others,  giving  a  very  false  impression, 
for  she  was  an  essentially  well-balanced  organism.  It 
is  difficult  to  reconcile  the  combination  of  a  passionate 
desire  to  break  her  box  of  ointment — the  Angel  of  the 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  9 

Crimea — and  the  firm  determination  to  save  it — the  Sani 
tary  Engineer  of  the  British  Army.  Her  ideals,  her 
aspirations  were  always  ballasted  by  facts:  with  scien 
tific  accuracy  she  experimented  on  a  small  scale  before 
venturing  into  any  big  scheme.  The  wild  fling  of  the 
visionary  was  never  hers;  therefore  no  recommendations 
from  Florence  Nightingale  were  ever  turned  down  as 
impracticable.  The  transformation  she  brought  about 
at  Scutari  seemed  miraculous,  but  it  was  so  only  as  any 
great  general's  work  is  miraculous. 

She  wasted  nothing  that  was  worth  while  in  herself 
or  in  others.  She  was  an  aristocrat  by  birth — she 
squeezed  everything  out  of  that  for  her  cause.  She  had 
wealth — that  went  to  the  cause.  There  was  no  silly  fuss 
ing  over  her  background.  In  Strachey's  virile  sketch  we 
catch  the  tremendous  momentum  of  her  character;  we 
catch  her  humor,  which  was  the  least  pleasant  thing  about 
her,  as  it  was  usually  aroused  by  the  foibles  of  her 
friends  and  her  opponents.  Where  Strachey  failed  was 
in  not  recognizing  her  reactions,  and  they  were  always 
sweet  and  sound ;  he  also  loses  the  quality  of  her  temper, 
which  was  a  first-rate  one.  A  splendid  temper,  ever  for 
reform,  never  for  revenge,  red  hot  to  remove  evils;  flar 
ing  a  little  at  stupidity,  it  burnt  out  quickly  and  clari 
fied  the  air.  A  fiery  steed  it  was,  that  she  held  master 
fully  in  check  when  action,  or  restraint  from  action, 
seemed  wise.  That  what  she  did  should  go  over  was 
paramount  with  her.  She  very  much  hated  a  fool,  and 


io  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

nothing  could  have  seemed  to  her  more  foolish  than  to 
desire  something  and  to  act  in  a  way  that  would  defeat 
your  desires.  A  very,  very  big  house-cleaning  it  was  that 
she  visualized  for  the  world — and  put  through!  How  she 
put  it  through  showed  the  height  that  an  executive  of 
parts  can  reach. 

No  one  knew  better  than  Florence  Nightingale  that 
philanthropy  not  backed  by  common  sense,  and  military 
and  civil  reforms  not  enforced  by  laws,  were  merely 
passing  winds  of  mercy;  but  she  held  for  her  soldiers  a 
mother's  fierce  ambition  and  love,  and  they  knew  her 
tenderness  as  well  as  her  wisdom.  Though  there  was  not 
a  sentimental  drop  in  her  body,  she  so  inspired  the  sol 
diers  at  Scutari  that  they  kissed  her  shadow  as  she  passed. 
Read  of  the  first  six  months  she  spent  there  and  you  will 
not  wonder  that  they  did.  She  gave  her  life  to  them. 

In  her  selflessness  to  a  cause  she  stands  with  the  very 
great;  in  her  mentality  she  stands  with  the  very  great; 
in  her  moral  and  physical  courage  she  stands  with  the 
very  great;  but  in  the  ability  to  appreciate  those  who 
only  stand  and  wait,  she  remained  outside — uncompre 
hending.  She  might,  on  occasion,  have  been  an  angel; 
she  never  could  have  been  a  saint.  She  would  never 
have  voiced,  "What  I  aspired  to  be,  and  was  not,  com 
forts  me."  Never!  She  looked  at  the  great  mystics  with 
veneration,  but  she  was  not  one  of  them.  She  could  not 
help  seeing  things  as  they  were  here  on  earth.  She  fitted 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  n 

every  lock  with  its  proper  key.  Very  clear  the  light  about 
her,  no  bewildering  atmosphere  to  transform  or  confuse. 

Put  your  ear  to  the  heart  of  the  world  and  listen. 
You  catch  a  throb  beating  far  down  the  ages;  you  strain 
heart  and  mind  to  hear  it;  it  comes  up  the  years  to 
you;  each  generation  gathers  a  deeper  note;  it  grows 
stronger  and  stronger,  more  sustained,  more  imminent — 
and  breaks  into  the  flooding  time  spirit.  To-day  Florence 
Nightingale's  spirit  dominates  the  earth.  This  is  her 
day,  her  age,  as  it  certainly  was  not  when,  to  use  her 
own  words,  she  "entered  into  work"  in  the  mid- Victorian 
era.  Florence  Nightingale  was  a  brave  and  bracing  sight; 
there  were  none  like  her,  none  at  all,  in  the  nineteenth 
century.  But  now  the  world  is  full  of  her  spiritual 
children;  you  will  meet  them  in  every  hospital,  in  the 
homes  of  the  poor  and  wretched,  in  the  homes  of  the 
rich — directing,  robbing  death  of  some  of  its  terrors, 
making  life  possible  for  the  afflicted.  Because  of  Flor 
ence  Nightingale  and  her  followers,  linked  with  the  physi 
cians,  death  and  disease  to-day  find  skilled  opponents. 
Shakespeare's  old  age  "Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste, 
sans  everything"  is  an  obsolete  figure,  and  those  of  four 
score  and  ten  shall  pass  out  with  almost  the  gesture  of 
youth.  There  is  no  greater  guild  on  earth  than  the  one 
of  which  she  was  pioneer  and  head  mistress.  She  was 
one  who,  having  put  on  immortality,  remains  always 
mortal. 

To  make  a  complete  characterization  of  her  I  should 


12  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

not  stop  here,  for  she  loved  statistics,  facts,  and  in  her 
most  exalted  moments  she  paused  to  verify  and  to  correct. 
So,  with  many  apologies  to  her  for  my  very  great  admira 
tion  for  her,  herself,  which  would  have  bored  her  ex 
ceedingly;  with  humility  before  her  for  my  liking  of  the 
laurel  and  applause,  which  she  so  genuinely  disliked;  I 
shall  attempt  to  appease  her  indignant  ghost  by  referring 
you  to  the  chronological  list  of  her  activities  given  in  the 
index  of  Sir  Edward  Cook's  "Life  of  Florence  Nightin 
gale." 

It  is  impossible  to  write  an  epitaph  for  her.  What  she 
had  done  ceased  to  interest  her — it  was  what  she  was 
about  to  do  that  alone  concerned  her.  Wherever  there 
is  work  going  forward  for  the  afflicted,  or  for  her  soldiers, 
there  walks  the  shade  of  Florence  Nightingale,  and  it  is 
always  advancing  from  achievement  to  achievement. 
"Here  am  I — send  me." 

In  the  play  I  have  been  obliged,  for  the  purposes  of 
the  stage,  to  condense  certain  events  in  her  life  into 
special  periods;  for  instance,  the  death  of  Lord  Herbert 
did  not  follow  directly  after  the  last  interview  with  her, 
but  its  effect  upon  her  was  as  I  have  written  it.  The 
famous  controversy  between  Florence  Nightingale  and 
Lord  Herbert  about  sending  additional  nurses  to  the 
Crimea  took  place  in  letters;  but  to  bring  the  facts  of 
the  case  vividly  before  the  audience  I  have  made  it  take 
place  verbally.  In  one  part  only  have  I  allowed  my 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  13 

imagination  to  invent,  namely,  in  the  love  scene.  The 
name  of  the  lover  is  purely  fictitious,  and  the  scene  only 
such  as  might  have  occurred,  given  her  psychology. 
That  a  lover  did  exist  and  that  such  a  scene  might  have 
occurred  is  all  I  may  claim.  The  honors  that  were 
showered  upon  her  during  the  latter  portion  of  her  life 
I  have  condensed  into  one  ceremonial.  I  have  not  given 
her  one  honor  that  she  did  not  receive,  and  many  that 
she  did  I  have  been  oblige  to  omit. 

It  is  a  grief  to  one  making  a  drama  of  her  life  not 
to  be  able  to  put  on  the  stage  London  with  its  banners 
flying,  its  streets  crowded,  waiting  for  the  heroine  of  the 
Crimea — and  her  slipping  quietly  to  her  home,  escaping 
all  publicity;  it  was  most  characteristic.  I  can  give  only 
a  reflected  picture  of  it  in  her  own  small  room.  Her 
life  was  crowded  with  important  events,  but  it  is  only 
possible  here  to  focus  a  few  salient  points,  showing  the 
spirit  and  motives  that  dominated  this  extraordinary 
woman  throughout  a  life  of  ninety  years,  filled  with  un 
ceasing  work. 

Baltimore,  1921 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY 

Miss  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE. 
MR.  NIGHTINGALE,  her  father. 
MRS.  NIGHTINGALE,  her  mother. 
LADY  VERNEY  (PARTHE),  her  sister. 

MR.  SIDNEY  HERBERT,  later  LORD  HERBERT,  Secretary  of 
War. 

MR.  AND  MRS.  BRACEBRIDGE,  friends  of  Miss  Nightingale. 
LORD  STRATFORD,  British  Ambassador  at  Constantinople. 

MAJOR  SILLERY,  Commandant  of  the  Hospital  and  Chief 
Purveyor  at  Scutari. 

DUCHESS  OF  BLANKSHIRE. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND,  friend  and  helper  of  Miss  Nightingale. 

MR.  ALLEN  DURHAM,  in  love  with  Miss  Nightingale. 

ALICIA,  the  maid. 

HORTON,  the  butler. 

Officials,  Soldiers,  Nurses. 


ACT  I 

SCENE  I 

Time  of  the  Crimean  War,  1854.  Drawing  Room  at  Lea 
Hurst.  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  is  at  the  tea  table;  MR. 
NIGHTINGALE  is  sitting  near  her;  he  puts  his  cup 
down. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  You  have  not  touched  your  tea; 
is  it  quite  wretched? 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  No,  no.  Foreign  and  domestic 
troubles.  Russell's  letters  from  the  Crimea  are  most 
upsetting,  and  I  am  always  uneasy  when  I  feel  another 
bout  pending  between  you  and  Parthe  and  Flo. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Bout!  My  dear  William,  what 
an  idea!  The  Crimean  situation — shocking — I  grant  you 
that.  Englishmen  neglecting  their  wounded!  Incred 
ible!  What  must  be  the  condition  in  other  countries? 
Florence  will  be  on  fire.  Work  for  your  country,  of 
course — but  from  your  own  platform.  Parthe  and  I 
will  never  give  up  trying  to  bring  our  exaggerated  Flor 
ence  back  to  the  society  to  which  she  belongs. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.    Good  Lord  deliver  us,  then! 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  The  child  is,  I  think,  amiably 
mad.  The  trials  I  have  had  with  her  are  past  telling. 


i6  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Be  good  enough  to  let  them  re 
main  at  "past  telling."  I  am  weary  of  it  all.  For 
twenty  years  certainly  I  have  been  a  buffer  state  be 
tween  Parthe  and  Flo  and  you.  Such  a  clever  woman 
as  you  are,  my  dear,  should  know  when  you  are  beaten. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Beaten!  I!  Not  at  all.  You 
don't  know  me. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Alas!  I  do  know  you,  and  I 
also  know  Florence. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  And  knowing  me  you  say  I  am 
beaten? 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  A  person  may  be  beaten  and  yet 
never  give  up;  a  very  wearying  situation  to  the  man  on 
the  fence. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  If  you  are  the  man  on  the  fence, 
William,  I  wish  you  would  get  off  and  help  us.  I  shall 
never  give  up  trying  to  save  Florence. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  That  is  the  difficulty.  You  want 
to  save  Florence  from  herself,  and  she  thinks  she  has  a 
self  that  she  wants  to  save  from  you,  and  devote  to  some 
big  cause.  Our  platform  is  too  small  for  her.  She 
wants  to  step  into  the  arena.  [He  takes  up  a  newspaper 
from  a  table  near  by.]  Let  me  read  you  Russell's  letter. 
[Reads]  "It  is  with  feelings  of  surprise  and  anger  that 
the  public  will  learn  that  no  sufficient  preparations  have 
been  made  for  the  proper  care  of  the  wounded.  Not 
only  are  there  no  dressers  and  nurses — that  might  be  a 
defect  of  system  for  which  no  one  is  to  blame — but  what 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  17 

will  be  said  when  it  is  known  that  there  is  not  even 
linen  to  make  bandages  for  the  wounded?  That  even 
now  when  the  soldiers  leave  the  fetid  ship  that  brings 
them  from  the  Crimea  and  are  placed  in  the  spacious 
buildings  where  we  were  led  to  believe  that  everything 
was  ready  which  could  ease  their  pain  or  facilitate  their 
recovery,  it  is  found  that  the  commonest  appliances  of  a 
workhouse  or  a  sick-ward  are  wanting."  .  .  .  That's 
Russell's  account  and  he  was  on  the  spot.  Herbert  will 
feel  this  keenly.  He  will  take  himself  to  task  and  he 
will  certainly  consult  Florence. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Sidney  Herbert  is  at  the  bottom 
of  our  trouble.  He  is  always  weakly  agreeing  with  her. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  He  has  to.  He,  you  see,  does 
know  when  he  is  beaten. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  It  was  Sidney  who  introduced 
her  to  Elizabeth  Fry;  who  urged  her  to  study  at  Kaiser- 
werth  and  educate  herself  to  be  a  nurse.  She  is  as 
determined  to  hide  from  the  sun  as  Parthe  is  happy  to 
shine  in  it.  If  Providence  had  only  brought  it  about 
that  Sidney  Herbert  and  Florence  had  married,  his  name, 
and  her  position  as  his  wife,  would  have  covered  her 
eccentricities;  as  it  is,  she  is  just  an  old  maid  with  a 
crochet — and  a  vulgar  crochet. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Why  have  you  a  grudge  against 
poor  Sidney?  Florence  would  have  burnt  him  up.  Now, 
as  it  is,  he  has  a  beautiful,  sweet,  soft  creature  of  a  wife, 
to  whom  he  may  escape  when  the  storm  beats  high.  I 


i8  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

have  always  been  proud  of  Florence's  intellect,  but,  after 
all,  to  put  brains  into  a  woman's  head  is  like  turning  a 
colt  loose  in  a  flower  garden— merely  destructive. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  How  absurd!  Florence  and  a 
flower  garden!  I  have  never  been  able  to  get  her  even 
to  arrange  flowers  for  the  drawing  room.  But  coltsl 
that's  another  matter.  At  least  nine  colts  out  of  ten  bora 
here  and  at  Embly  have  been  godmothered  by  Florence. 

HORTON  [the  old  butler,  who  has  come  in  with  hot 
scones  and  who  seems  a  privileged  character,  looks  up]. 
Ah,  ma'am,  begging  your  pardon,  but  t'wan't  only  the 
colts  Miss  Florence  mothered.  Every  sick  thing  on  the 
place  whimpered  for  her.  God  bless  Miss  Florence, 
ma'am. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Quite  so,  my  good  Horton,  but 
we  want  her  here  with  us. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE,  warming  his  hands  over  the  fire, 
gives  a  low  whistle  and  smiles  cynically.  HORTON 
goes  out  shaking  his  head. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Florence  gets  her  turn  of  mind 
from  my  father,  who,  poor  dear,  was  always  after  some 
hornet's  nest.  Nothing  pleasant  ever  interested  him  in 
the  least. 

Enter  LADY  VERNEY,  very  gay. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Some  tea,  mama,  some  tea.  Not  a 
word  about  the  Crimea.  It's  too  awful  for  words.  Are 
you  two  dear  people  worrying  over  Florence?  Don't, 
it's  not  worth  while.  Just  let  Florence  have  to  sit  and 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  19 

listen  meekly  to  a  Board  of  Managers  for  a  few  months 
and  she'll— Shall  I  tell  you  what  she  will  do?  She  will 
marry  Allen. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  She  won't,  and  when  she  turned 
him  down,  as  I  feel  sure  she  has  done,  Florence  became 
a  nun.  Parthe,  you  are  the  natural  woman,  and  that 
gown  becomes  you. 

LADY  VKRNEY.  Oh,  but  life's  delightful!  Why,  when 
Providence  has  given  you  green  pastures,  should  you  pine 
for  dung  hills?  I  think  it  ungrateful. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  It  is,  my  dear,  it  is!  If  God 
gives  us  a  high  position  we  must  take  the  responsibilities 
of  the  position.  Florence  is  throwing  away  great  oppor 
tunities.  We  have  more  ill  persons  on  our  own  land  than 
one  woman  can  possibly  attend  to.  I  miss  her  help  ex 
cessively.  The  poor  on  our  land  look  up  to  her,  love 
her.  By  helping  me,  she  could  have  all  the  charitable 
philanthropic  work  she  could  reasonably  desire — but 
will  she? 

LADY  VERNEY  [interrupting].  No,  mama  dear,  she 
won't.  Florence  wishes  to  be  her  own  Commander.  I 
wouldn't  be  Florence's  husband  for  any  consideration, 
unless  it  could  be  an  arrangement  of  Queen  and  Prince 
Consort.  Now  Florence  and  Allen  could  play  those  parts 
well. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Florence  is  a  noble  creature,  say 
what  you  will;  only  I,  too,  wish  with  you  that  she  could 
take  pleasure  in  the  pleasant  things  of  life. 


20  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.    We  are  ducks  who  have  hatched 
a  wild  swan. 

LADY  VERNEY.   No,  mama,  only  a  big,  big  goose — and 
here  the  dear  comes. 

The  door  opens  and  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  comes 
sweeping  into  the  room;  her  coat  is  unbuttoned  and 
fatting  back  from  her  shoulders;  her  head  is  held 
very  high  and  she  is  holding  a  newspaper  in  her  hand, 
from  which  she  begins  to  read  aloud,  with  intense 
emotion. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [with  great  emotion].    Shame  on 
England!     But  she  shall  not  turn  to  her  women  in  vain. 
The  call  for  nurses  has  come.     Listen:    [Reads  aloud 
from  newspaper  in  her  hand.]     "Why  have  we  not  Sis 
ters  of  Charity?     There  are  able-bodied  and  tender 
hearted  English  women  who  would  joyfully  and  with 
alacrity  go  out  to  devote  themselves  to  nursing  the  sick 
and  wounded,  if  they  could  be  associated  for  that  pur 
pose,  and  placed  under  proper  protection." 
MR.  and  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  and  LADY  VERNEY  listen 
with  breathless  interest.   As  FLORENCE  finishes  read 
ing,  she  looks  from  one  to  the  other. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    Now  you  see  where  my  life  has 
been  leading.    You  see  why  God  urged  me,  even  in  my 
childhood,  to  train  myself,   to  go  to   Kaiserwerth,   to 
school  myself  in  Paris,  to  take  this  place  in  London.    Oh, 
I  thank  God  that  in  spite  of  the  driveling  idiocy  about 
me  I  would  do  as  I  did.    Now  I  am  ready. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  ai 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.    Ready  for  what? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Can  you  ask?  The  wounded 
uncared  for — did  you  read  the  papers  this  week?  The 
sick  dying  from  neglect;  France  sending  her  women, 
trained,  intelligent  women 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  [interrupting].  Florence,  we  will 
send  our  nurses — but  not  our  daughters. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Our  nurses  are  the  vilest  of  low 
women — drunken,  ignorant  creatures;  our  nurses  are  co 
partners  with  the  grave  diggers.  I  burn  with  the  shame 
of  it!  Oh,  to  think  that  I  have  a  body  that  takes  time 
to  move!  My  soul,  my  heart,  my  mind,  every  drop  that 
is  in  me,  is  at  the  service  of  these  poor  men  that  are  tor 
tured  in  order  that  we  should  have  all  this.  [She  waves 
her  hand  scornfully  about  the  luxurious  room.] 

LADY  VERNEY.  Wait  a  moment  Florence,  until  I  can 
steady  my  poor  little  lace  hat  against  the  storm — such  a 
costly  little  hat  it  is,  too. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [passionately] .  Parthe,  I  beg  of 
you,  do  not  jest  now.  Mama,  papa,  the  wounded  lie 
rotting  in  a  conscious  death.  Some  of  our  badly  wounded 
who  were  on  the  ship,  a  stenching  ship,  did  not  see  a 
medical  man  for  a  week,  though  in  their  torture  they 
caught  at  the  surgeon  as  he  passed — and  were  shaken  off 
by  him.  That  steadies  my  heart  to  act!  Mama,  it  is  a 
hideous  tale  of  mismanagement.  Our  troops,  with  the 
thought  of  Queen  and  country,  fought  like  heroes;  and 
when  the  enemy  had  done  his  work  they  were  tossed 


aa  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

over  to  a  worse  enemy — their  own  countrymen.  The 
Sisters  of  Charity  from  France  are  the  only  light  in  this 
black  tragedy.  Englishmen  are  dying  slowly  in  stench 
and  filth,  and  the  women  of  England  knit  socks,  and  sing 
hymns,  and  say  prayers — in  rooms  like  this! 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  [coldly].  You  are  very  ungrate 
ful  to  a  God  who  sees  fit  to  give  you  beautiful  things, 
and  sacrilegious  to  doubt  the  wisdom  of  God  who  sees 
fit  to  place  one  in  one  position,  and  one  in  another. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Sophistry  and  absurd,  mamal 
The  good  things  that  I  have  I  will  give  with  both  hands 
where  my  heart  has  gone — to  those  wounded  in  battle — 
wounded  for  me.  I  tell  you,  mama,  that  though  my 
body  has  drifted  fretfully  at  its  moorings,  I  am  seaworthy. 
I  am  straining  at  anchor  to  be  gone. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  To  sail  a  sea  of  trouble  and  dis 
aster,  Florence?  You  are  very  capable;  you  are  very 
gifted.  Why  not  be  a  master  builder,  if  you  like  that 
simile,  and  send  thousands  to  the  rescue,  rather  than  be 
one  of  the  thousands  that  some  less  masterful  mind  than 
yours  must  direct? 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Well  said,  William!  Florence 
here  at  home,  united  with  Parthe  and  me,  and  with  Sid 
ney  Herbert's  and  Allen's  help,  could  direct,  get  funds, 
administer.  Do  you  think,  Florence,  that  I  would  do 
better  to  make  up  beds  for  my  household,  cook,  scrub, 
rather  than  train  others  to  do  the  work  they  were  born 
to  do? 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  23 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Mama,  it  is  futile  arguing.  You 
know  I  do  not  think  anything  so  silly  as  that  you  should 
cook  and  scrub;  but  I  do  not  think  God  has  singled  us 
and  our  class  out  because  of  any  inherent  worth  in  our 
selves.  He  who  has  been  so  good  to  us  may  be  merely 
watching  to  see  how  we  act  when  dressed  in  a  little  brief 
authority.  If  we  fail,  it  may  be  the  cook's  turn  next. 
Who  knows?  Ah  me!  Mama,  where  do  you  find  Christ? 
Do  you  find  Him  in  the  palace  of  the  Caesars,  making 
merry — in  a  lotus  land  of  luxury — or  in  the  sunny  halls 
of  the  protected  righteous?  [She  flings  back  her  head 
and  looks  far  off,  aloof  and  alone.]  I  know  now  that  the 
passionate  aim  of  my  life  is  to  hear  my  Master  say:  "I 
was  sick  and  ye  visited  me."  [Then  turning  to  them 
with  a  sigh  she  smiles  at  them.]  I  am  going  mama. 
But,  dear  ones,  let  me  go  with  your  love. 

LADY  VERNEY  has  been  weeping.  MR.  NIGHTINGALE 
taps  his  fingers  on  the  arm  of  his  chair,  looking  very 
unhappy. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  [still  coldly].  Your  father  and 
Parthe  will  certainly  yield  to  you;  I  see  that.  But  I 
will  not,  unless  I  must.  Wait  till  we  have  talked  the 
matter  over  with  Sidney  Herbert — and  with  Allen.  One 
small  matter  you  ignore,  Florence — the  Army  does  not 
want  women  nurses — and  I  must  say  I  think  it  is  very 
respectable  and  right-minded  of  the  Army — and  that  a 
daughter  of  mine  should  thrust  herself  upon  an  unwilling 
Army  is  incredible,  it  is  simply  not  done. 


24  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

LADY  VERNEY  [laughing  and  wiping  away  her  tears]. 
One  woman  against  the  entire  British  Army!  Why,  Flo, 
you  are  a  veritable  little  David. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.    And  you  laugh,  Parthe? 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE  [puts  his  arm  about  LADY  VERNEY 
and  looks  whimsically  at  FLORENCE]  .  We  laugh,  mama, 
as  we  sneeze — because  we  must — for  relief.  Thank  you 
for  laughing,  Parthe,  I  was  at  the  weeping  point. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Fortunately,  the  way  is  singu 
larly  clear  for  me.  I  have  been  seeking  for  my  work 
all  my  life  and  now  with  a  definite  call  it  comes  to  me. 
I  am  fortunate. 

The  butler  comes  with  a  letter  which  he  hands  to 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [opening  the  letter],  Tis  from 
Sidney;  our  letters  have  crossed;  I  have  already  written 
to  him.  [Opens  the  letter  and  reads  with  growing  in 
terest.  At  the  close  she  draws  a  deep  breath  and  looks 
up]  He  writes  that  he  will  be  here  in  a  few  moments. 
He  asks  me,  urges  me,  to  go. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Florence,  have  pity  on  us,  who 
love  you  for  yourself. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  No,  no,  mama,  you  love  some 
thing  not  at  all  myself.  Read  what  Sidney  writes.  [She 
hands  the  letter  to  her  mother.]  I  am  trained,  papa;  I 
feel  certain  of  myself. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.    Florence! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    Ah,  Sidney  thinks  you  will  ob- 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  25 

ject,  but  that  the  magnitude  of  the  work  must  weigh 
with  you.  But  he  will  speak  for  himself  [looking  at  the 
clock}.  He  should  be  with  us  now. 

The  butler  comes  in  and  announces  MR.  HERBERT.  As 
MR.  HERBERT  enters  he  looks  anxiously  at  the  group 
about  the  tea  table,  and  as  he  sees  his  letter  in  MRS. 
NIGHTINGALE'S  hand,  he  goes  quickly  to  her. 

MR.  HERBERT.  My  dear,  dear  lady.  Do  not  be  angry 
with  me  for  urging  this  upon  Florence.  Your  daughter 
is  worth  a  hundred  sons  to  the  Government.  She  is  the 
only  lady  in  the  land  to  whom  in  our  extremity  we  turn. 
She  is  the  only  one  who  could  organize,  direct,  and  con 
trol  this  venture.  In  all  England  not  one  other  person 
is  her  equal.  At  the  War  Office  her  name  brought  hope. 
Her  Majesty  is  awaiting  the  answer  that  will  refute  the 
shame  now  humiliating  all  England — that  her  troops 
must  look  to  the  women  of  other  nationalities  for  succor. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.    Her  Majesty? 

MR.  HERBERT.  Yes,  the  Queen  knows  that  Florence 
alone  has  the  genius  backed  by  knowledge  for  the  work. 
Let  her  go,  not  only  with  your  consent,  but  with  your 
approval. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Under  such  auspices,  she  must 
go  with  our  proud  approval. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [hardly  hearing  them  has  been  in 
tent  on  her  own  thoughts.  She  now  turns  to  SIDNEY 
HERBERT]  .  You  say  in  your  letter  that  the  Bracebridges 
will  go  with  me? 


26  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

MR.  HERBERT.    I  feel  sure  of  it. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Then  say  to  them  to  be  ready 
within  a  week.  We  should  catch  the  first  outgoing 
steamer. 

MR.  HERBERT.    In  a  week? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    Yes. 

MR.  HERBERT.    Do  you  think  that  could  be  done? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    It  must  be  done. 

MR.  HERBERT.  My  wife  said:  "Florence  will  be  off 
for  Scutari  with  her  nurses  by  the  next  steamer  sailing." 
I  believe  that  you  will  be.  You  dear  wonder  of  a  woman! 
God  bless  you. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.    So  soon?    Our  Florence! 

LADY  VERNEY.    Must  we  let  her  go  so  soon,  Sidney? 

MR.  HERBERT.  When  God  puts  His  stamp  upon  His 
envoy,  we  must  obey. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Sidney,  that  is  the  right  word. 
His  stamp,  not  His  yoke.  I  feel  light  with  power. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  It  is  a  strange  world.  I  am  proud 
of  my  woman  child,  but  a  woman  in  harness  is  un- 
English. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [her  face  breaking  into  laughter, 
puts  her  hand  teasingly  under  her  father's  chin  and  looks 
merrily  into  his  eyes] .  Ah,  but  a  lady  in  harness  is  most 
English — and  driven  with  a  very  tight  bit,  too.  But  we 
must  not  cross  swords  now,  papa,  because  I  must  quickly 
put  each  one  of  you  into  harness  if  I  am  to  keep  my 
boast  of  time  enough  and  to  spare  in  a  week's  prepara- 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  27 

tion.  Sidney,  the  call  for  nurses  must  go  into  the 
papers  at  once.  Will  you  see  to  it? 

MR.  HERBERT.  Yes,  before  I  dine  to-night  it  shall  have 
gone  to  the  press. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Florence  has  a  vision  of  a  wo 
man's  love  flowing  over  those  red  fields  of  the  wounded. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [laughing].  Mama,  mama!  my 
vision  is  of  soap  and  splints  and  food  and  sheets — clean 
sheets. 

MR.  HERBERT.  Florence  is  our  hope — standing  alone 
in  her  full  equipment,  a  lady  of  lineage  who  knows  how 
to  command,  a  woman  of  democratic  comprehension  who 
knows  how  to  feel,  with  mental  and  physical  vigor,  and, 
pardon  me,  Florence,  a  driving  will.  This  is  my  picture 
of  you,  pioneer  of  trained  nurses  I 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Yes,  yes,  all  very  pretty,  but  we 
cannot  waste  time  or  words  now.  Please,  please,  be  off, 
Sidney — the  notices — the  Bracebridges.  Oh,  who  is  this? 

HORTON  annotmces  MR.  DURHAM.  There  is  a  general 
look  of  embarrassment.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  moves 
a  little  impatiently.  MR.  HERBERT  becomes  grave. 
A  tatty  distinguished-looking  man  comes  into  the 
room. 

LADY  VERNEY  [going  to  meet  him].  You  come  at  a 
proud  but  sad  moment  for  us,  Allen.  Do  you  know  that 
our  Florence  is  requested  by  the  Government  to  take 
nurses  out  to  Scutari  and  help  relieve  the  shocking  situa 
tion  there? 


28  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

MR.  DURHAM  [moving  with  LADY  VERNEY  towards  the 
others,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  FLORENCE]  .  Yes,  I  had  heard 
some  such  gossip  in  town,  Florence  must  consider  us. 
The  war  office  should  take  care  of  its  own  soldiers. 

MR.  HERBERT.  We  are  doing  our  best,  and  that  is  to 
send  Florence — better  than  that,  no  people  could  do. 

MR.  DURHAM.  Could  you  not  persuade  Mrs.  Herbert 
to  go?  A  married  woman  would  be  more  fitting — if  a 
woman  must  be  used? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [haughtily  lifts  her  hand  to  pre 
vent  MR.  HERBERT  from  answering].  We  have  no  time 
for  the  woman  question  now.  At  the  present  moment, 
married  or  single,  man  or  woman,  is  of  no  consequence — 
it's  merely  the  right  person  for  the  emergency.  I  hope 
that  I  am  the  right  person — I  rejoice  that  they  think  me 
so — I  am  going.  [She  moves  away  from  them  towards 
the  mantel.'] 

LADY  VERNEY.  Come,  Allen,  we  must  bear  the  burden 
of  Flo's  greatness.  You  are  hurting  Sidney. 

MR.  DURHAM  moves  over  to  the  table  without  speak 
ing  and  takes  up  a  book. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [turns  towards  them].  Why  do 
you  wait,  Sidney?  Every  moment  is  of  consequence  to 
us  now. 

MR.  HERBERT.  I  go  on  the  instant.  Good-by,  dear 
people — and  praise  God  for  our  Florence. 

MR.  DURHAM  looks  up  and  shrugs  his  shoulders  and 
resumes  his  book.  MR.  HERBERT  goes  out. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  29 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE  [rising].  Your  opportunity  has 
come,  my  child,  I  congratulate  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [plotting  her  arm  about  his  neck}. 
Love  me,  papa;  and  forgive  me  for  being  so  troublesome. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE  [in  a  pretended  whisper}.  Don't 
tell  your  mother  or  Parthe,  but  I'm  tremendously  proud 
of  you.  I  feel  a  little  silly  and  feminine  beside  you.  I 
shall  borrow  a  lace  cap  and  parasol  from  Parthe  and  give 
you  my  sword  and  coat.  [They  both  laugh.} 

LADY  VERNEY.  It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  joke,  papa, 
but  I  tremble  with  fear  for  Flo — and  from  the  very  bot 
tom  of  my  heart  I  wish  she  would  listen  to  Allen  and  be 
comfortable  [looking  towards  MR.  DURHAM].  Allen, 
put  down  your  book;  be  generous,  and  talk  it  over  with 
Florence. 

MR.  DURHAM.  I  had  come  to  beg  Florence  to  consider 
how  we  must  all  suffer  if  she  goes. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Come,  Parthe.  Come,  William. 
We  will  leave  Florence  to  tell  Allen  herself  of  the  Gov 
ernment's  request. 

MR.  and  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  and  LADY  VERNEY  go  out. 

MR.  DURHAM  [leaning  on  the  back  of  the  chair  and 
watching  FLORENCE  intently  for  a  moment  as  she  stands 
absorbed  by  the  fireplace}.  Well,  Florence?  You  have 
no  welcome  for  me? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  have  no  room  for  you,  Allen; 
perhaps  that  is  alas  for  me. 

MR.  DURHAM  [leaving  the  chair  and  going  towards 


30  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

her].  You  are  not  apt  to  give  up  what  you  want — and, 
my  love,  my  dear,  dear  love,  say  what  you  will,  I  think 
you  do,  a  very  little,  want  me. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Have  you  read  the  call  for 
nurses  in  the  paper  to-day?  Government  has  asked  me 
to  take  charge  of  the  situation.  I  leave  in  a  week. 

MR.  DURHAM  [much  moved] .  Yes,  but  surely,  surely, 
Florence,  we  together,  here  at  home,  could  do  more  than 
either  apart. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Allen,  what  would  you  say  if  the 
generals  of  our  army  stayed  at  home,  saying  that  the 
burden  and  the  heat  of  the  day,  the  risk  of  death  and 
disease,  were  sacrifices  that  only  the  poor  and  the  ig 
norant  should  make?  If  that  were  true,  then  the  world 
is  theirs,  and  we  of  the  aristocracy  are  merely  parasites. 

MR.  DURHAM  [begging  her  question].  Is  there  any 
thing  greater  or  more  for  the  good  of  the  world  than  love? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  No,  but  love  and  passion  are  not 
synonymous.  Ah,  me,  if  I  went  to  your  arms  now? 

MR.  DURHAM  [holding  out  his  arms].    Come! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  No,  and  no.  I  have  chosen  my 
path.  I  have  really  always  known  my  path,  though  at 
times  it  was  so  dark  I  only  stumbled  blindly  on  my  feet; 
but  in  my  heart  and  brain  there  never  was  darkness. 
"Love,"  you  say?  My  path  is  aflame  with  love,  but  it 
is  love  that  gives,  and  gives,  and  never  takes. 

MR.  DURHAM.  We  would  give  with  our  four  hands 
instead  of  two. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  31 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  know  your  idea  of  womanhood. 
It  has  its  attractions  for  me.  I  shall  be  lonely  for  them 
and  for  you — perhaps;  but  I  will  not  have  them  or  you. 
For  a  single  moment  I  have  stood  with  you  and  desire; 
now  I  am  telling  you  that  the  desire  is  dead.  It  was 
only  for  a  second,  the  heart-beat  of  the  natural  woman, 
that  was  all.  Take  my  hand;  feel  how  cool  it  is;  it  is 
steady  on  the  helm  of  my  work.  Go,  Allen.  Marry  some 
lady  of  leisure. 

MR.  DURHAM  {indignantly}.    Florence! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [abstractedly] .  Will  you  do  an 
errand  for  me?  Take  some  telegrams  and  see  that  they 
are  sent  on  the  instant. 

MR.  DURHAM.    Florence! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  {wearily}.  Have  done,  Allen. 
Would  a  patrol  sleep  on  duty?  I  will  not  stop  for  one 
second  longer  to  look  on  life  personally  from  the  domestic 
woman's  angle.  [She  goes  to  a  desk  and  writes.} 

MR.  DURHAM  [watches  her  with  his  head  held  high 
and  drawn  brows} .  Say  to  your  father  and  mother  that 
I  send  my  apologies  for  my  abrupt  leave.  I  thought 
love  left,  when  it  died,  a  certain  sentiment  in  women — 
but  apparently  not. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [turning  hastily  around}.  I  am 
sorry,  but  will  you  take  my  telegrams,  Allen?  And  try 
to  think  kindly  of  me? 

MR.  DURHAM  [holding  up  his  hand}.  I  am  not  your 
lackey,  Florence,  beloved.  When  you  come  to  a  sense  of 


32  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

your  womanhood,  your  own  and  my  need,  I  am  your 
lover.  Until  then,  I  bid  you  good-by;  and  God's  blessing 
on  your  undertaking,  my  dear — my  dearest. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Oh  Allen!  Can't  you  under 
stand  that  the  world's  awry,  and  that  we  have  no  time, 
and  should  have  no  inclination,  to  stop  and  smell  nose 
gays?  Forgive  me — and  take  my  messages,  Allen. 

MR.  DURHAM  [smiling  cynkatty] .  No,  that  I  will  not 
do.  Give  them  to  Herbert. 

He  goes  out.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  clasps  her  hands 
behind  her  head  and  watches  for  a  moment  the  door 
ALLEN  has  closed  after  him.  Enter  LADY  VERNEY. 

LADY  VERNEY  [going  quickly  to  Miss  NIGHTINGALE, 
holds  out  both  hands  with  a  protesting  gesture}.  Flor 
ence,  I  saw  Allen's  face  as  he  left.  Oh,  think  twice  before 
you  turn  him  away!  Let  me  call  him  back. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  No,  I  choose  an  impersonal  life, 
and  a  friendship  like  Sidney's.  We  work  mind  and  heart 
for  one  purpose,  Was  ever  such  friendship  as  Sidney's 
and  mine?  Wait  and  see  what  it  accomplishes. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Dear  Florence,  Sidney  has  a  wife,  his 
life  is  fully  rounded — yours  will  not  be.  The  great  im 
personal  love  is  not  human.  Oh,  let  me  call  Allen  back — 
he  loves  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [drawing  LADY  VERNEY  to  her]. 
Do  I  want  him  back?  No,  no.  He  would  have  satisfied 
my  intellectual  nature,  and  my  passionate  nature,  but 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  33 

I  have  a  moral  and  active  nature  that  requires  satis 
faction,  which  I  would  not  find  in  his  life. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Ah,  Florence,  you  would  be  happy  at 
home,  and  Allen  loves  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Allen?  [She  moves  a  little  away 
from  LADY  VERNEY.]  What  is  his  ideal  of  a  woman, 
really?  Something  that  sits  in  the  corner  and  purrs  and 
breeds,  and  shows  her  claws  only  where  her  young  is  at 
tacked.  No!  my  talons  are  for  the  poor,  the  ill,  who 
have  no  champion.  Allen — little  children  of  my  own — 
sweet  English  lanes  and  stupid  autocratic  English  life — 
I  cannot  linger  with  you.  "I  was  sick  and  ye  visited 
me."  [She  bows  her  head  and  puts  her  hand  for  a 
moment  over  her  eyes;  then  with  a  light  movement  of 
the  head  she  looks  up.]  I  am  human.  This  dear  house, 
most  surely  I  love  it — and  my  dear  people.  But,  Parthe, 
[her  face  grows  terrible  in  its  sternness'],  the  dead,  lying 
about  in  heaps  like  scraps  of  refuse!  One  moment — our 
gallant  men;  the  next — tortured  for  us  and  shunted  off 
by  us  to  die  in  torment.  Our  War  Office  lolling  in  blun 
dering  and  inertia — unprepared — unprepared.  Dear  God, 
I  go  to  my  appointed  task;  and  it  is  my  task;  I  would 
have  no  other — I  go,  I  go. 

[Curtain] 


SCENE  II 

Same.  Four  days  later.  HORTON,  the  butler,  is  seen  ar 
ranging  chairs  in  rows  at  one  end  of  the  room,  at 
the  other  end  a  jew  comfortable  chairs  are  placed  about 
a  table  upon  which  is  a  vase  of  flowers,  a  lamp,  etc. 

HORTON  [speaks  in  great  ill  humor] .  Why  Miss  Flor 
ence  wants  a  parcel  o'  jail  birds  to  come  'ere  and  set  in 
my  satin  chairs  is  more'n  a  Christian  can  tell. 

Enter  LADY  VERNEY  humming  gaily.    She  looks  crit 
ically  about  her. 

LADY  VERNEY  [to  HORTON].  Miss  Florence  will  speak 
a  few  words  to  a  group  of  nurses  whom  she  is  going  to 
take  with  her.  It's  a  sad  time  for  us,  Horton.  [She  goes 
to  the  table  and  moves  the  books  a  little  to  one  side. 
HORTON  comes  towards  her.] 

HORTON.  A  sad  day  it  is,  Lady  Verney.  When  does 
Miss  Florence  go? 

LADY  VERNEY.    In  three  days.    All  your  fault,  Horton. 

HORTON.  Ye'll  always  make  merry,  me  Lady;  but 
I'd  give  me  eyes  to  keep  Miss  Florence  'ome. 

LADY  VERNEY.  So  would  we  all,  Horton;  but  you 
were  always  praising  her  for  her  nursing  when  she  was 
a  little  girl,  and  now  she  wants  to  take  the  entire  world 
by  the  ears  and  turn  it  into  a  nurse. 

34 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  35 

HORTON.  A  drunken  drab  of  a  world  it  would  be,  me 
Lady;  for  them  nurses  is  a  set  of  'ussies  as  only  cares  for 
drink  and  viciousness.  I  know  'em.  When  one  gets 
'old  of  a  man  he  must  choose  between  getting  married 
or  buried.  They  won't  let  off  from  one  or  t'other. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Miss  Florence  will  take  charge  of  all 
that,  Horton. 

HORTON.  Very  likely  she  will;  there's  naught  she  can't 
do.  Shall  I  give  the  women  these  chairs? 

LADY  VERNEY  [who  is  reading  a  letter] .  Yes,  Horton, 
but  speak  to  them  civilly;  this  lot  are  gentlewomen; 
they  are  to  go  with  Miss  Florence  into  hard,  hard  work 
— and  danger,  too,  alas! 

Enter  MR.  HERBERT;  he  nods  to  Horton,  who  bows 
respectfully  to  him  and  goes  out.  MR.  HERBERT 
goes  to  meet  LADY  VERNEY. 

MR.  HERBERT  [laughingly].  How  is  it  with  you,  my 
fair  enemy? 

LADY  VERNEY.  Your  enemy,  indeed!  Yours  and 
Florence's  toiling  slave,  you  should  say. 

MR.  HERBERT.  We  shall  both  be  toiling  slaves  for 
Florence  after  she  leaves,  if  we  are  to  get  the  money  and 
sympathy  that  she  will  need  to  make  our  experiment  a 
success. 

LADY  VERNEY.  You  have  really  against  you  an  im 
movable  prejudice  on  the  part  of  many  in  authority. 
Women  nursing  soldiers  is  rather  startling,  you  know. 

MR.  HERBERT.    Florence  will  carry  it  over. 


36  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

LADY  VERNEY.  She  will!  We  are  an  obstinate  fam 
ily,  but  Florence  is  the  grindstone  upon  which  all  our 
wills  have  been  worn  out.  The  grindstone  remains  in 
tact.  War  Offices  may  come  and  War  Offices  may  go,  but 
Florence's  little  purpose  will  remain  forever — and  thrive. 
I  know  my  sister. 

FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  comes  into  the  room.  She 
smiles  and  nods  to  them  in  a  casual  way,  and  looks 
at  the  clock.  HORTON  comes  in  and  gives  her  a  note, 
which-  she  opens  and  reads.  She  shrugs  her  shoulders 
and  turns  to  LADY  VERNEY  and  MR.  HERBERT. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  From  Dr.  Ordley.  He  writes 
that  he  is  sending  four  women  who  wish  to  go  with  me. 
He  adds  that  he  never  asks  for  characters  from  these 
women  as  no  woman  with  a  character  would  do  a  nurse's 
work.  Isn't  it  amazing?  [To  HORTON,  who  has  been 
waiting. 1  Well,  Horton? 

HORTON.  A  female  of  sixty  brought  that  note,  Miss 
Florence;  she  says  she's  a  young  haspirant.  She's  'ad 
time  to  outgrow  hanything.  Three  other  females  are  with 
her — and  I  wouldn't  trust  the  plate  with  hany  one  of 
them  about  the  'ouse. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.     Bring  them  here. 
HORTON  goes  out. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [turning  to  MR.  HERBERT].  I  am 
keeping  a  record  of  the  women  who  have  applied.  I  wish 
to  show  exactly  the  types  we  have  had  to  select  from. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  37 

MR.  HERBERT.  The  group  you  yourself  have  asked 
to  come  to-day  are  of  a  good  order? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  They  are  gentlewomen,  with  a 
few  exceptions. 

HORTON  opens  the  door  and  ushers  in  jour  women. 
Two  are  in  widow's  weeds  and  seem  about  forty 
years  old;  the  other  two  are  somewhat  younger, 
much  overdressed  and  painted.  They  approach  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE,  who  turns  to  receive  them.  She  has 
her  hands  folded  before  her.  LADY  VERNEY  and 
MR.  HERBERT  take  their  seats  at  the  table  with  pen 
cils  and  paper  to  make  any  necessary  notes  for  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looking  gravely  from  one  to  an 
other  of  the  women] .  Dr.  Ordley  writes  that  you  wish  to 
go  with  me  to  Scutari.  [Turns  to  the  one  who  seems  the 
most  aggressive}  What  are  your  qualifications  as  a 
nurse? 

WOMAN  [haughtily] .    I'm  a  widow,  ma'am. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE    [suppressing  a  smile].     That's 
deplorable,  but  how  does  that  fit  you  for  nursing  work? 
WOMAN.    You'd  not  ask  that  if  you'd  known  Jacob 
Fetig.    He  were  puny  for  twenty  years,  and  went  to  his 
burying  with  no  more  fat  on  'is  bones  than  a  poor  man's 
turkey. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  What  other  discipline  have  you 
had? 


38  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

WOMAN.    None,  ma'am. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  You  don't  meet  the  requirements. 
Horton,  show  Widow  Fetig  out. 

WOMAN  [leaves  the  room,  saying  indignantly'}.  And 
I  a  widow!  I  nussed  a  man  twenty  years,  and  I  won't 
do,  won't  I?  We'll  see. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [turning  to  the  other  woman  in 
black].  What  are  your  qualifications? 

WOMAN  [with  her  head  up].    I'm  a  widow. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  My  good  woman,  this  is  not  a 
retiring  board  for  afflicted  widows.  What  do  you  know 
about  nursing? 

WOMAN.  I  have  had  nine  children,  ma'am,  and  never 
a  well  one  among  them. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    Where  are  they  now? 

WOMAN.  Dead,  ma'am;  every  last  one  of  them.  I'm 
free  to  go,  ma'am. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  must  have  some  one  experi 
enced  in  keeping  people  alive,  my  poor  woman.  I'm 
afraid  you  won't  fit  my  work  at  all. 

WOMAN  [going  off  in  great  offense,  turns  as  she  reaches 
the  door].  Bad  luck  to  ye! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [turning  to  one  of  the  overdressed 
women].  Do  you  know  anything  about  the  care  of  the 
sick? 

WOMAN.  Not  a  whit,  ma'am;  but  I'm  willing  to  make 
a  try  at  it.  I  can  get  on  with  anything  in  trousers — 
unless  it's  an  old  fambly  cooler  on  legs  like  the  one  as 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  39 

showed  me  into  this  'ere  room.     [Turns  and  makes  a 
face  at  HORTON,  who  looks  fixedly  at  the  ceiling.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looking  sternly  at  her] .  Horton, 
show  this  woman  out. 

WOMAN  [looking  scornfully  about  her  as  she  goes  to 
the  door  gives  HORTON  a  nudge} .  Sly  old  smoulder  can. 
Did  I  call  it  a  cooler?  Are  you  winking  yer  eye  at  me, 
ye  old  sinner?  [HORTON  steps  back  in  horror  as  she 
laughs  and  goes  out.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [to  the  last  of  the  applicants]. 
What  fits  you  for  nursing? 

WOMAN.    IVe  been  a  ward  nurse  now  these  six  years. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    Can  you  dress  wounds? 

WOMAN  [indignantly].  I  can  dress  a  body  as  any 
respectable  woman  should.  But  I'll  'ave  nothing  to  do 
with  their  nasty  wounds.  I  leaves  them  to  the  saw-bones. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [curtly].  Show  the  woman  out, 
Horton. 

WOMAN  [goes  off  in  a  fury;  as  she  reaches  the  doort 
she  turns  and  says].  Ye  are  keeping  the  job  for  the 
ladies,  are  ye?  Ye  think  to  get  a  'usband  or  two  among 
ye.  Shame  on  ye  for  getting  the  better  of  a  poor  man  on 
'is  back,  with  'is  legs  up. 

HORTON  opens  the  door  to  let  her  outf  his  face  ex 
pressing  great  indignation. 

WOMAN  [looking  at  him  scornfully] .  I'd  like  to  'ave 
ye  to  me  'and,  ye  old  reprobate. 

HORTON  follows  her  out.    As  the  door  closes,  MR. 


40  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

HERBERT  and  LADY  VERNEY  look  at  each  other  and 
at  Miss  NIGHTINGALE,  and  break  into  laughter. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE   [merrily}.     Do  please  write  to 
Dr.  Ordley  and  thank  him  prettily  for  this  treat  he  has 
given  us.     Now  the  nurses  are  coming  whom  I  have 
chosen  myself.    You  will  see  the  difference. 

HORTON    [entering].     A  woman,   Miss   Florence,   as 
begs  she  may  see  you — I  can't  turn  her  off;  a  poor,  haf- 
flicted  creater. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    Bring  her  here. 

HORTON  goes  out. 

LADY  VERNEY.    Ah,  Florence,  it's  some  poor  mother 
or  sweetheart — if  you  see  one  they  will  come  by  hundreds. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE    [sadly].     If  I  only  could  see 
them  all — one  comfort  is  that  God  does. 

MR.  HERBERT.    Let  me  see  the  poor  woman  for  you. 
Florence;  it  will  be  part  of  my  work  when  you  are  gone. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    No,  this  one  I  will  see  for  my 
self. 

HORTON  ushers  in  a  woman  rather  poorly  dressed. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE  goes  to  meet  her;  the  woman 
looks  helplessly  around  and  then  throws  herself  at 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE'S  feet. 

WOMAN.  Oh,  miss,  you'll  see  my  son — he's  a  foxy- 
looking  boy.  You'll  maybe  not  like  his  face  till  he  smiles 
— oh,  oh,  miss,  if  I  could  only  see  him  smile — 'tis  a 
kinder  innocent  smile,  miss.  Oh,  God,  if  I  could  only 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  41 

see  him  smile.    Will  you  tell  him  his  mother  is  breaking 
her  heart  to  reach  him?     [She  bows  her  head  sobbing.'] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [leans  down  and  takes  the  wo 
man's  face  between  her  hands].  I  will  be  very  tender 
with  your  boy.  Tell  me  his  name. 

WOMAN.  Brian  Dare,  miss — and  he'll  make  a  brave 
show,  but  don't  mind  him,  miss;  he's  timorous-like  in 
his  heart.  Only  his  mother  knows  how  he  minded  a  hurt, 
and  I  can't  get  to  him,  miss. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Stand  up,  poor  mother  1  [The 
woman  gets  up  wiping  her  eyes  with  her  shawl.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [putting  her  hand  on  her  shoulder, 
looks  into  her  eyes] .    Be  brave — have  faith,  and  do  your 
part  here — see  that  Brian  has  a  home  to  return  to.    I  will 
search  for  your  dear  boy  and  write  you  of  his  smile. 
The  woman  begins  to  weep. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Now  stop  weeping — you  need 
all  your  strength  to  keep  a  house  and  a  mother  for  your 
son.  Horton,  give  Mrs.  Dare  a  cup  of  tea.  Her  son  is 
fighting  for  you. 

The  woman  seizes  one  of  Miss  NIGHTINGALE'S  hands 
and  kisses  it.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  withdraws  her 
hand  and  indicates  that  she  must  go.  MR.  HERBERT 
comes  forward  and  takes  the  woman's  hand;  she 
looks  at  him  with  some  fear. 

MR.  HERBERT  [gently] .  I  will  take  you  out  for  your 
tea  and  you  will  give  me  your  name  and  together  we 


42  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

will  tell  the  mothers  of  England  of  Miss  Nightingale. 
[He  leads  the  woman  out.~\ 

LADY  VERNEY  [going  to  FLORENCE].  Oh,  my  dear, 
how  can  you  bear  it? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  How  can  I  bear  to  wait  until  a 
slow  boat  reaches  the  wounded  men  of  England?  That's 
what  I  don't  know. 

LADY  VERNEY.  I  will  work  hard  for  you  at  home, 
Florence. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [touches  LADY  VERNEY  lightly  on 
the  forehead  with  her  lips].    I  know  you  will,  Parthe. 
Enter  HORTON 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Horton,  be  sure  and  look  after 
my  pets  when  I  am  gone. 

Enter  MR.  HERBERT. 

HORTON.  It  will  be  a  sad  day  for  them  and  for  me 
when  you  go,  Miss  Florence.  I  remember  the  time  you 
nursed  Cap,  the  shepherd  dog 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [holds  up  her  hands  in  protest]. 
Please,  please,  Horton.  Didn't  I  ever  do  anything  but 
care  for  that  dog?  [Turns  to  LADY  VERNEY  and  MR. 
HERBERT  who  both  look  amused].  I  am  as  hard  beset 
by  that  dog  as  George  Washington's  memory  is  by  his 
little  hatchet.  It's  quite  too  awful.  Instead  of  saying  the 
boy  was  not  untruthful,  they  tell  that  tale  of  the  hatchet; 
and  instead  of  saying  that  I  was  not  an  unkindly  little 
girl,  I  am  made  a  bore  to  all  other  little  girls  by  the  tale 
of  Cap. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  43 

HORTON  [proudly].  I  tell  everyone  about  it,  Miss 
Florence. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  am  sure  you  do,  Horton.  Please 
don't. 

HORTON  shakes  his  head  and  goes  out. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [gaily].  Come,  Parthe.  Come, 
Sidney.  We  must  be  doing.  Only  three  days  left. 

MR.  HERBERT.    Do  you,  by  the  way,  ever  sleep? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    No  sleep  for  us  now.    Come. 

LADY  VERNEY  [sinking  into  a  chair  and  looking  quiz 
zically  at  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  and  MR.  HERBERT].  I'm 
not  a  widow,  ma'am,  but  I  won't  do.  I'm  going  to  rest. 
It  has  not  been  borne  in  on  me  that  I  am  an  important 
factor  in  the  universe. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [reproachfully].    O  Parthe! 

MR.  HERBERT  [shaking  his  finger  at  LADY  VERNEY]. 
Let  us  leave  her,  Florence;  she  is  in  a  wicked  mood. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  kneels  down  beside  her  sister  and 
puts  her  arms  around  her  neck. 

LADY  VERNEY  [puts  her  hand  caressingly  upon  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE'S  cheek  and  looks  up  at  MR.  HERBERT]. 
For  just  one  second,  Sidney,  I  will  keep  her  from  being 
an  active  force;  keep  her  just  my  very  own  little  sister — 
who  nursed  Cap,  the  dog. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I'm  ashamed  of  you,  Parthe. 
[She  rises,  looks  at  the  clock.  HERBERT  goes  to  her 
side.  LADY  VERNEY  watches  them  lazily.] 

HERBERT.    If  only  our  positions  were  changed  and  you 


44  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

could  go  to  Parliament  and  I  to  Scutari!  How  gladly  I 
would  save  you  the  hardships! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  We  work  as  one  person,  Sidney. 
I  will  be  with  you  in  Parliament  and  you  with  me  at  Scu 
tari.  In  England  a  woman  can  work  only  through  a 
man — fortunate  indeed  it  is  when  their  ideals  are  the 
same. 

LADY  VERNEY.  A  woman  work  only  through  a  man — 
oh,  Florence,  Florence! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  It  should  not  be  so,  but  it  is  so. 
I  can't  go  to  Parliament — I  cannot  force  reforms  except 
through  men. 

LADY  VERNEY.  I  assure  you  that  they  will  do  what 
you  tell  them  to  do.  Don't  worry!  [She  rises.]  I  must 
see  that  HORTON  works  through  me.  I  must  soothe  the 
poor  soul  before  your  next  lot  of  women  come.  I  shall  be 
back  presently.  [She  goes  otttJ] 

MR.  HERBERT  [goes  near  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  and  looks 
•wistfully  at  her].  Florence 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [smilingly].    Sidney? 

MR.  HERBERT.  How  can  I  let  you  go?  You  are  suffi 
cient  in  yourself,  but  I  need  the  sharpening  of  my  intel 
lect  by  yours.  My  ideals  were  blurred  until  you  brought 
them  to  focus.  How  can  I  let  you  go? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Why,  Sidney,  my  master,  what 
does  it  matter  whether  the  poles  of  the  earth  separate  us? 
We  are  working  together  for  one  purpose.  Neither  could 
do  without  the  other. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  45 

MR.  HERBERT.     And  yet  Allen  Durham  thinks 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [interrupting  indignantly'].  Allen 
thinks!  What  does  he  think?  He  thinks  of  life  only  as 
he  has  been  taught  to  think.  He  is  Primitive  Man  sur 
rounded  by  modern  conveniences.  You  and  I  are  not 
thinking  of  ourselves. 

MR.  HERBERT.  Allen  feels  that  he  is  thinking  of  you 
— that  I  am  sacrificing  you  to  a  Cause. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  But  it  is  my  Cause!  Allen  and 
his  like  cannot  see  how  anyone  can  have  a  passion  for 
other  women's  children.  They  do  not  see  over  their  own 
garden  walls  into  the  vast  world  of  humanity.  I  do. 
You  do.  There  is  no  greater  power  on  earth  than  friend 
ship  such  as  ours. 

MR.  HERBERT.  And  yet  love  is  greater  than  friend 
ship,  dear  Florence. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Sidney,  what  is  our  friendship 
but  love,  the  best  of  all  kinds  of  love?  Together  we  will 
make  it  a  redeeming,  unselfish  force. 

MR.  HERBERT.  I  know — I  know  that  is  true!  But 
in  the  changes  and  chances  of  this  mortal  life 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [interrupting  and  putting  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder].  Such  beautiful  words,  Sidney, 
but  I  have  always  thought  that  they  minimized  the  power 
of  God.  For  changes  put  improvements,  for  chances, 
opportunities.  You  have  given  me  my  opportunity. 

MR.  HERBERT  [smiles'] .  It  is  like  you,  dearest  friend, 
to  bid  the  dreamer  arise. 


46  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Are  you  the  dreamer?  Cer 
tainly  you  keep  me  from  forgetting  that  without  vision 
the  people  must  perish.  You  have  given  me  my  vision. 
I  know  only  the  tools  that  will  make  the  vision  realized. 
God  means  us  to  work  together.  We  shall  know  the 
height  of  friendship,  you  and  I. 

Enter  LADY  VERNEY.  She  looks  toward  MR.  HERBERT 
and  Miss  NIGHTINGALE. 

LADY  VERNEY.  What  have  you  two  been  talking 
about?  Sidney  looks  a  bit  discouraged  and  you,  Flor 
ence,  exalted. 

MR.  HERBERT  [drawing  himself  up  more  erectly,  gives 
a  sigh  and  laughs].  My  gay  lady,  we  were  talking  of 
love  and  friendship.  You,  an  adept,  might  inform  us 
on  the  subject. 

LADY  VERNEY.  You  are  both  dears — also  you  are  the 
two  very  silliest  and  wisest  people  I  know;  but  as  for  me, 
I  am  a  wee  bit  sorry  for  a  lover  when  he  loses.  Poor 
Allen! 

MR.  HERBERT.    I  understand  how  he  feels. 

LADY  VERNBY.  Oh,  do  you,  Sidney?  Why  don't 
you  tell  him  so? 

MR.  HERBERT.  I  do  not  believe  that  he  would  like 
me  to. 

LADY  VERNEY.  No?  It's  very  deep  of  you  to  see 
that. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  moves  abstractedly  to  the  window 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  47 

and  looks  out.  LADY  VERNEY  watches  her  for  a 
moment  and  sees  that  she  is  not  listening. 

LADY  VERNEY  [turning  quickly  to  MR.  HERBERT]. 
You  have  stepped  in,  Sidney,  between  Florence  and  a 
natural  love.  You  have  your  wife  as  well  as  the  Universe. 
Florence  has  only  the  Universe. 

MR.  HERBERT.  Only  the  Universe?  Well,  she  is  big 
enough  for  it. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Oh  yes,  but  it  seems  cold  to  little  me 
— and  fearfully  lonely.  Allen  would  have  dragged  her 
down  from  her  natural  impulses  to  some  personal  com 
fort  by  the  fireside.  You  send  her  off  through  her  natural 
impulses  to  disease,  danger,  work,  with  never,  never  a 
fireside  to  idle  beside. 

MR.  HERBERT  [miserably].  She  shall  have  my  every 
thought.  I  will  drive  heart  and  mind  and  body  for  her. 
I'll  help  her  to  win  a  crown.  [Dispiritedly.]  I  help  her 
win  a  crown!  She  would  win  one  without  any  help.  I 
suppose  everyone  must  be  lonely. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Not  a  bit  of  it!  I'm  not  lonely. 
[Suddenly.]  Forgive  me,  Sidney.  I  think  you  the 
gentlest,  finest  man  on  earth,  but  I  don't  think  you 
are  Florence's  master — and  you  are  making  her  depen 
dent  on  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [turning  round] .  What  were  you 
saying? 

LADY  VERNEY.    Sidney  is  a  bit  down. 


48  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [coming  towards  them  and  speak 
ing  a  little  sharply].  You  understand,  Sidney,  and  the 
War  Office  understands,  that  I  am  to  have  absolute 
authority  over  the  nurses. 

MR.  HERBERT.    Quite  so. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  And  that  not  one  woman  goes 
without  my  consent — not  one  is  to  follow  me  there  unless 
I  send  for  her.  We  must  make  this  very  critical  experi 
ment  of  women  nurses  on  a  small  scale  at  first. 

MR.  HERBERT.    Certainly.    It  shall  be  as  you  wish. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  And  I  shall  expect  a  large  finan 
cial  backing.  We  must  hurry  up  the  subscriptions. 

MR.  HERBERT.    That  shall  be  done. 

LADY  VERNEY.    What  an  awful,  awful  time  women  do 
have  getting  their  way  through  men. 
They  laugh. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  am  going  out  for  a  moment — 
I  am  expecting  my  nurses  soon,  those  of  my  own  choosing. 

She  goes  out,  passing  MR.  and  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  as 
they  come  in. 

LADY  VERNEY  [going  to  meet  her  mother}.  Isn't  it 
wonderful!  Florence  has  fired  all  England  with  enthusi 
asm.  Packages  have  been  coming  in  all  day  and  they 
say  that  the  wharf  is  congested  with  stores  to  be  sent 
out.  I  hope  you  will  have  a  mild  season.  There  will 
not  be  a  man  in  England  left  with  a  flannel  undervest. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  I  will  fly  to  my  maiden  aunt  for 
protection.  I  have  instructed  my  man  to  lock  up  all  my 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  49 

valuable  stock  before  it  gets  tagged  to  be  sent  to  the 
Crimea. 

LADY  VERNEY.  No  hope  for  you,  papa.  Flo  expects 
from  you  a  perfectly  enormous  draft. 

MR.  HERBERT.    A  family  cannot  indulge  in  anything 
more  expensive  than  a  popular  heroine.    A  beauty  like 
yourself,  Parthe— or  a  race  horse — comes  lighter. 
HORTON  enters.    The  DUCHESS  OF  BLANKSHIRE,  a  very 
large  lady,  comes  in;  she  has  a  tuft  of  feathers  in 
front  of  her  bonnet.    She  is  wearing  a  silk  mantle 
and  is  carrying  a  little  dog.    She  goes  rapturously 
to  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  smiling,  and  then  turns  to  the 
others. 

DUCHESS.  My  sweet  dear,  what  an  incredible  thing! 
The  town  is  ringing  with  dear  Florence's  name.  I  must 
see  her.  God  is  guiding  her.  She  has  His  blessing.  But 
it  all  depends  on  one  thing:  Has  she  got  the  money? 
MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Now,  Duchess,  I  see  where  you 
stand. 

DUCHESS.  Of  course,  you  do.  And  Florence  must  be 
well  chaperoned,  too.  Tommies!  you  know  how  quite 
shocking  they  are — she  will  find  that  all  the  women  she 
takes  out  will  want  to  marry  them. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.    No!    I  had  never  thought  of  thatl 

And  I  have  always  heard  that  the  British  soldier  marries 

quite  casually  as  often  as  he  is  asked  to. 

The  DUCHESS  looks  at  him;  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  looks 

shocked;  LADY  VERNEY  laughs.    Enter  FLORENCE 


50  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

NIGHTINGALE.  She  looks  surprised  as  she  sees  the 
DUCHESS. 

DUCHESS.  My  dear  child,  I  have  come  to  give  you  my 
blessing,  to  tell  you  that  you  have  my  prayers. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  But,  dear  Duchess,  I  have  the 
prayers  of  all  the  poor  people  in  town ;  from  you  I  want 
only  your  pocket  book. 

DUCHESS  [horrified].    My  purse! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Certainly,  jupt  that.  Look! 
[She  holds  out  a  memorandum  book  with  pencil.]  Now, 
who  will  head  this  subscription  with  a  truly  inspiring 
sum?  Come,  Duchess! 

MR.  HERBERT  [goes  quickly  to  Miss  NIGHTINGALE 
and  takes  the  book].  I  claim  the  right  to  head  the  list. 
[He  writes  in  the  book  and  returns  it  to  Miss  NIGHTIN 
GALE.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looks  at  the  book] .  Sidney,  you 
really  shouldn't.  You  have  a  family. 

MR.  HERBERT  moves  away  with  a  little  laughing  ges 
ture. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Give  me  the  list,  Florence,  but  I'll 
cover  Sidney's  donation — I  won't  look  at  it — I  won't  be 
bullied  or  made  ashamed  of  my  mite.  [He  writes  some 
thing  down  and  hands  FLORENCE  back  the  book.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looks  up  at  him].  Oh,  papa, 
how  good  you  are. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  I  will  not  have  it  said  that  I 
valued  my  ducats  more  than  my  daughter. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  51 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Now,  Duchess,  show  what  a 
woman  can  do. 

DUCHESS.  Florence  Nightingale,  you  may  bully  these 
men  but  you  shan't  bully  me.  I  shall  subscribe  a  very 
tiny  sum  to  this  venture  of  yours. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looks  humorously  at  her] .  I  sup 
pose  you  know  I  am  taking  this  paper,  directly  I  have 
your  subscription,  to  Lady  Bland? 

DUCHESS.  Florence,  you  know  that  woman  is  my 
enemy  and  that  I  would  give  a  pretty  big  sum  to  make 
her  give  more — here,  hand  me  the  paper.  [THE  DUCHESS 
takes  the  book  and  hands  it  back  to  FLORENCE  who  looks 
at  it.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  This  is  really  good  of  you.  I 
knew  you  had  a  kind  heart. 

HORTON  [entering] .  A  number  of  women  as  says  you 
are  expecting  them. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Bring  them  in  and  give  them 
those  chairs  [indicating  the  chairs  at  the  end  of  the 
room] . 

HORTON  goes  out. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    These  are  nurses  I  was  expecting. 

DUCHESS.  I  shall  stay  and  see  how  my  money  is  going 
to  be  spent. 

THE  DUCHESS,  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE,  MR.  NIGHTIN 
GALE,  LADY  VERNEY  and  MR.  HERBERT  all  retire  a 
little  into  the  background.  HORTON  opens  the  door, 
and  a  group  of  very  respectable-looking  women  come 


$2  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

in.  Some  of  them  are  in  the  garb  of  Catholic  sis 
ters.  They  bow  to  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  and  take  the 
seats  HORTON  indicates.  A  Catholic  sister  takes 
her  place  first.  A  few  of  the  other  women  show 
dissatisfaction;  one  seems  to  hesitate  to  sit  next  to 
the  sister.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  notices  this  attitude, 
and  with  a  little  half-sad,  half-amused  smile  moves 
nearer  to  the  group,  giving  them  an  all-including 
smile  of  welcome. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [in  a  pleasant  voke] .  Won't  you 
be  seated?  [To  the  Catholic  sister.]  Sister  Serena,  will 
you  take  a  place  near  me?  [LORD  HERBERT  quickly 
places  a  chair  near  Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  The  sister  moves 
quietly  forward,  bows  to  Miss  NIGHTINGALE,  and  sits 
down.  The  other  women,  a  little  shamefacedly,  take 
their  places}.  I  wish  to  talk  to  you  very  informally. 
Please  interrupt  me  at  any  moment  with  any  question  you 
wish  to  ask. 

A  WOMAN  [rising].  I  beg  pardon,  Miss  Nightingale, 
but  I  thought  this  a  Protestant  mission.  [Sits  down.] 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [fiercely].  Protestant  mission! 
Are  the  men  who  are  fighting  for  you  only  Protestants? 
Let  me  inform  you  that  until  now  there  have  been  no 
reputable  nurses  except  among  the  Catholic  sisters.  It 
makes  not  the  slightest  difference  whether  one  is  Jew 
or  Gentile,  Catholic  or  Protestant,  provided  one  has  good 
morals  and  capable  hands.  "Judgment  is  mine,  saith 
the  Lord."  Leave  the  Almighty  his  confessional;  you 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  53 

have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  your  fellow-workers' 
passports  to  God.  If  a  Catholic  is  dying,  I  will  do  my 
utmost  to  provide  him  his  priest;  if  a  Jew,  his  rabbi; 
if  a  Protestant,  his  pastor.  [She  pauses.] 

ANOTHER  WOMAN  [rising].  Miss  Nightingale,  I  am 
willing  to  do  any  work  that  is  fit  for  a  lady,  but  I  heard 
someone  say  that  we  have  to  do  washing.  [Sits  down.'] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Do  washing!  Of  course  you 
will,  and  exceedingly  nasty  washing.  Do  not  idealize 
what  is  before  you.  You  will  have  to  scrub  floors,  wash 
clothes,  and  clean  beds  of  vermin,  and  do  whatever  you 
are  told  to  do  without  complaining.  Two  things  that 
are  imperative  for  you  to  have  are  common  sense  and 
unselfishness.  An  illustrious  poet  has  written: 
"Men  must  work  and  women  must  weep 
While  the  harbor  bar  is  moaning." 
Absurd  stuff,  to  which  a  number  of  women  have  taken 
very  kindly.  There  can  be  nothing  of  that  order  with 
us.  There  is  a  long,  hard  road  before  us,  but  I  see  a 
great  healing  force  passing  on  into  the  ages,  growing 
greater  and  stronger  until  the  time  shall  come  when 
"There  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  cry 
ing.  Neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain,  for  former 
things  have  passed  away."  When  that  time  comes,  we, 
of  our  profession,  shall  sleep  well.  Until  then,  it  is 
work.  [There  is  silence  for  a  moment  and  then  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE  turns  to  LORD  HERBERT.]  Lord  Herbert, 
our  chief,  wishes  to  say  God-speed  to  you. 


54  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

LORD  HERBERT.  I  look  at  you  women  with  a  full 
heart.  You  are  pioneers.  The  experiment  of  women  as 
army  nurses  is  in  your  hands.  I  know  that  you  will 
succeed  for  you  have  in  Miss  Nightingale  a  great 
leader,  to  whom  I  ask  you  to  give  implicit  obedience. 
Those  who  follow  after  you  will  say,  "God  bless  you!" 
as  I  say  it  now.  [He  touches  Miss  NIGHTINGALE 
lightly  on  the  shoulder.}  Here  is  your  surety  that  all 
will  end  well  in  the  short,  hard  to-day  and  the  long, 
unknown  to-morrow.  [He  looks  at  them  for  a  moment 
in  silence.]  God  be  with  you  in  Scutari! 

[Curtain.'] 


ACT  II 

SCENE  I 

Scutari.  Grounds  in  front  of  the  Barrack  Hospital.  The 
hospital  is  on  high  ground,  overlooking  the  Sea  of 
Marmora  with  Constantinople  in  the  distance.  Time: 
afternoon  of  November  4,  1854. 

MAJOR  SILLERY  [Commander  of  the  Hospital],  LORD 
STRATFORD  [British  Ambassador],  and  a  number  of 
surgeons,  medical  men  and  officers  of  various  ranks,  are 
standing  about  in  front  of  the  hospital  entrance.  The 
ground,  almost  up  to  the  entrance,  is  covered  with 
wounded  men.  The  stretchers  are  coming  and  going. 
Now  and  then  the  stretcher-bearers  [themselves 
wounded  men]  are  too  weak  to  carry  their  burden  and 
drop  exhausted  to  the  ground.  A  pile  of  dead  sewn 
up  in  canvas  lies  in  a  heap  on  the  ground,  waiting  for 
the  orderlies  to  carry  them  off. 

LORD  STRATFORD  [laughingly  to  one  of  the  young  sur 
geons,  and  looking  at  his  watch}.  Miss  Nightingale 
should  be  here  now,  but  lady-birds  are  privileged  charac 
ters. 

MAJOR  SILLERY  [looking  about  with  a  bothered  ex 
pression]  .  I  wish  we  might  have  tidied  up  a  bit  for  the 

55 


56  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

ladies,  but  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  anyone  to  do  the 
work.  That  pile  of  dead  there — the  ground  is  never  clear 
of  them. 

IST  OFFICER.  It's  not  at  all  bad.  The  dead  have 
to  wait  for  the  living,  you  know.  That's  Scripture. 

LORD  STRATFORD.  You  young  fellows  must  not  wear 
your  hearts  on  your  sleeves;  the  birds  will  peck  them 
cruelly. 

YOUNG  SURGEON  [looking  very  sulky] .  I  am  sure,  sir, 
we  were  doing  very  well  as  we  were.  It  seems  hard  for 
Government  to  send  out  a  lot  of  women  for  us  to  look 
after. 

20  SURGEON.  It's  a  beastly  shame!  Government 
hasn't  enough  to  do,  that's  the  matter.  We  were  getting 
on  all  right.  And  now — women! 

LORD  STRATFORD  [laughing'].  Come,  come;  but  if  the 
birds  start  demoralizing  the  fit  men,  let  me  know.  The 
battles  must  be  fought.  [To  MAJOR  SILLERY].  How 
many  wounded  have  you? 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  There  are  seventeen  hundred  and 
more  cases  of  sick  and  wounded  in  this  hospital  alone, 
and  about  a  hundred  and  twenty  are  cholera  cases. 

LORD  STRATFORD.  That  should  keep  the  birds  busy. 
Lady  Stratford  is  terribly  concerned  lest  they  flirt  with 
the  orderlies. 

IST  OFFICER.  It's  all  that  damned  sentimental  non 
sense  Russell  oozed  out  in  The  Times;  it  started  Herbert 
using  his  soft  brain. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  57 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  Mr.  Herbert  is  a  wonderful  man,  a 
humanitarian  and  a  man  of  force. 

LORD  STRATFORD.    Quite  so,  but  a  sentimentalist. 

IST  OFFICER.  What's  the  row,  anyhow?  We  are 
doing  as  we  have  always  done.  I  hate  these  new  fads. 
These  ambulances,  now — rotten  affairs.  Just  pitch  a  fel 
low  into  a  cart  with  some  hay  at  the  bottom,  and  he  likes 
it  a  lot  better.  I  know,  for  when  I  got  a  hole  in  my  leg 
in  the  Peninsula  war,  I  was  very  grateful  for  a  toss-up  in 
a  cart.  It  was  good  for  me,  too,  made  me  exercise  to 
keep  the  wounded  side  on  top.  What  do  people  expect 
when  they  go  to  war? 

LORD  STRATFORD.  Expect  1  Why  lovely  birds,  to  be 
sure,  to  sing  for  them. 

IST  OFFICER.  The  dear  ladies,  with  Herbert  as  Chair 
man,  want  a  nice,  wordy  war.  My!  how  your  talker 
hates  to  do  things! 

20  OFFICER.  When  Herbert  sends  out  his  light  infan 
try  and  the  Nightingale  Guards,  we  might  suggest  that  a 
scratch  or  two  is  possible.  They  may  really  get  hurt, 
you  know.  I  wager  they  stipulated  that  they  be  returned 
sound  and  their  morals  uncontaminated. 

30  OFFICER.  Rotten  nonsense,  I  call  it.  The  War 
Office  sleeps  late,  and  they  think  that  war  is  merely 
shaking  a  finger  in  sweet  remonstrance  over  the  lines. 
Also,  they  want  to  unload  all  their  old  socks  on  us;  there 
are  about  two  thousand  pairs  dumped  out  on  the  wharf 


58  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

and  for  men,  too,  who  have  not  as  much  as  one  foot  to 
the  hundred  of  them. 

2D  OFFICER.  It's  not  their  old  socks  but  their  old 
maids  they  want  to  shove  on  us.  Do  you  think  they 
will  send  out  one  pretty  girl?  Not  on  your  life!  I  wager 
the  dead  will  turn  from  the  scarecrows  they'll  ship  to  us. 

4TH  OFFICER.  I  hear  that  Miss  Nightingale  is  very 
personable. 

LORD  STRATFORD.  I  have  never  met  her,  but  she  has 
birth  and  wealth;  she  has  power  with  Government  and 
at  Court.  I  trust  she  will  quickly  attach  herself  to  one 
of  you  young  fellows  and  that  it  will  end  in  marriage  all 
around — and  a  voyage  home  for  the  honeymoon. 

The  men  laugh. 

IST  OFFICER  [turning  to  another].  Are  we  really 
short  of  linen,  you  know?  and — ah,  soap?  We  could 
hardly  be  short  of  soap. 

20  OFFICER.  I  don't  know.  It's  none  of  my  business. 
The  blooming  beggars  don't  want  to  bathe,  anyhow. 

30  OFFICER.    Whose  business  is  it? 

4TH  OFFICER.  The  Lord  alone  knows.  What  does  it 
matter?  Let  the  men  sleep  on  the  ground — it's  war. 
Nothing  like  offsetting  one  bad  thing  by  another!  You 
get  your  balance.  Men  should  be  hardened.  Ambu 
lances,  soap,  pap,  cots — and  women!  And  we  call  our 
selves  Englishmen! 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  $9 

YOUNG  SURGEON.  Still  we  ought  to  have  cots,  you 
know;  and  there's  a  blasted  sewer  under  the  hospital, — 
it  stinks  warm  nights  in  the  wards.  I've  seen  a  well  man 
faint  from  it.  And  there's  a  breezy  spot  there.  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I'll  operate  in  that  part.  I  called  out  to  some 
chaps  the  other  night  that  they  would  just  have  to  take 
their  papers  to  Kingdom  Come  without  my  signature 
[laughs']. 

3D  OFFICER.  Oh,  I  say,  now.  That's  not  square. 
Whose  business  is  it? 

IST  OFFICER.  Really,  I  don't  know.  You'd  have  to 
write  to  the  War  Office  at  home,  and  that  would  start  a 
pow-pow  from  now  till  doomsday.  It's  rotten  asking 
questions  in  England;  it  leads  nowhere. 

LORD  STRATFORD  [adjusting  his  glasses] .    Ah,  I  think 
I  see  a  flight  of  birds  coming  over  the  hill. 
A  group  of  tired  and  abashed-looking  women  are  seen 
coming  towards  the  hospital.    There  are  a  jew  men 
in  attendance.     MAJOR  SILLERY  and  LORD  STRAT 
FORD  go  forward  to  meet  them  and  try  to  single  out 
Miss    NIGHTINGALE.      They   see    MR.    and   MRS. 
BRACEBRIDGE,  who  are  a  little  in  advance  of  the 
others,    and   decide   MRS.    BRACEBRIDGE   must    be 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE. 

LORD  STRATFORD  [aside  to  MAJOR  SILLERY].  The 
bird  has  caught  her  mate  on  the  voyage  over.  The  de 
nouement  comes  even  sooner  than  I  anticipated. 


60  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

They  step  forward  and  bow  to  MRS.  BRACEBRIDGE. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  ] 

LORD  STRATFORD.}  Miss  Nightingale? 

MR.  BRACEBRIDGE  [quickly].  No,  Sillery;  you  should 
know  me.  I'm  only  five  years  older,  you  know,  than 
when  we  last  met.  Perhaps  you  find  Mrs.  Bracebridge 
too  young? 

MAJOR  SILLERY  [shaking  hands  with  them  delight 
edly'].  I  am  glad  to  see  you  both.  [Turning  to  LORD 
STRATFORD.]  These  are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bracebridge,  old 
friends  of  mine.  Bracebridge,  our  Ambassador,  Lord 
Stratford. 

LORD  STRATFORD  [bows  over  MRS.  BRACEBRIDGE'S  hand 
and  to  MR.  BRACEBRIDGE].  We  met  at  Herbert's  two 
years  ago.  I  recall  a  delightful  week  there.  [To  MRS. 
BRACEBRIDGE.]  Lady  Stratford  will  be  charmed  when 
she  hears  that  you  have  come.  She  was  terribly  con 
cerned  that  Miss  Nightingale  might  arrive  unchaperoned. 
But,  pardon  me,  where  is  your  lieutenant,  Miss  Nightin 
gale?  [He  looks  questioningly  at  the  women  in  the 
background.] 

MRS.  BRACEBRIDGE  [laughing].  Say  our  General,  not 
our  Lieutenant,  Lord  Stratford.  She  is  coming  on  the 
instant.  She  remained  behind  at  the  landing  to  see  about 
some  important  luggage. 

MR.  BRACEBRIDGE.  We  are  all  under  Miss  Nightin 
gale's  orders.  She  comes  to  try  this  new  venture  of 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  61 

women  nurses  for  the  army  with  absolute  authority  from 
Government. 

LORD  STRATFORD  [coldly].  And  you,  Bracebridge? 
Will  you  remain  with  us? 

MR.  BRACEBRIDGE.  Yes,  I  am  courtier,  secretary, 
man-of-all-the-work  she  will  permit,  to  Miss  Nightingale. 
And  my  wife  is  quite  as  willing  to  slave  for  her.  You  will 
be  at  once  impressed  by  her. 

LORD  STRATFORD  [smiles  cynically'].    Ah,  I  am  sure. 
But  is  that  Miss  Nightingale  I  see  approaching? 
MR.  BRACEBRIDGE  [turns}.    Yes. 
FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  is  seen  coming  slowly  up  the 
hill.    She  looks  at  the  stretcher-bearers  and  their 
burdens  as  they  pass,  at  the  wounded  men  upon  the 
ground,  at  the  general  disorder  and  misery,  with 
keen,  attentive  eyes.    As  she  approaches  the  group 
of  nurses  and  officers,  the  minor  surgeons  and  of 
ficers  involuntarily  move  back  to  give  her  audience 
with  MAJOR  SILLERY  and  LORD  STRATFORD.    Miss 
NIGHTINGALE  looks  very  quietly  at  the  group  with, 
unconsciously,  the  manner  of  a  courteous  general 
reviewing  a  new  regiment.    LORD  STRATFORD  recog 
nizes  the  eye  of  one  used  to  command,  and  is  im 
pressed  in  spite  of  his  prejudices.    MAJOR  SILLERY 
is  a  little  awed.    They  both  advance  to  meet  her 
and  bow.    She  looks  gravely  from  one  to  the  other. 
MAJOR  SILLERY.    I  am  glad  to  welcome  you,  Miss 
Nightingale.    I  am  Sillery. 


62  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [smiles  as  she  gives  her  hand]. 
My  Chief.  You  will  find  that  I  understand  obedience. 
I  am  very  really  yours  to  command.  [Turns  to  LORD 
STRATFORD.]  I  am  sure  that  I  am  speaking  to  Lord 
Stratford,  our  Ambassador.  You  will  find  [she  laughs'] 
that  I  know  how  to  beg.  There  is  no  limit  to  one  who 
has  been  a  successful  beggar  all  her  life. 

LORD  STRATFORD.  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  I  have 
instructions  to  give  every  assistance  in  my  power.  Seen 
for  the  first  time,  this  must  seem  a  beautiful  part  of  the 
world  to  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  {with  a  look  of  displeasure'].  I 
think  God  may  well  be  pleased  with  His  part  of  the 
world.  But  {looking  about  the  ground],  we  seem  to 
have  made  a  sorry  mess  of  it. 

LORD  STRATFORD  [irritably].  Dear  lady,  this  is  war. 
We  are  not  off  shooting  in  Scotland,  you  know. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looking  about  at  the  wounded]. 
No.  The  huntsman  is  careful  of  his  game.  [Turning  to 
MAJOR  SILLERY.]  May  I  take  my  nurses  and  put  them 
where  they  will  cause  least  inconvenience?  In  a  few 
hours  I  hope  to  show  you  that  every  one  is  more  com 
fortable  and  has  less  care  because  we  are  here. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  Your  work  is  in  your  own  hands. 
You  will  have  every  assistance  from  me.  [He  looks  a 
little  askance  at  LORD  STRATFORD,  but  continues  firmly.] 
If  you  find  your  work  here  too  severe,  I  will  endeavor 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  63 

to  make  it  lighter.  If  you  feel  that  you  cannot  endure 
the  discomforts  I  shall  let  you  return  to  England  re 
gretfully — but  always  with  gratitude  for  the  noble  im 
pulse  that  brought  you  and  your  nurses  out. 

LORD  STRATFORD  looks  horribly  bored,  puts  m  his  eye 
glass  and  watches  the  distant  horizon. 

YOUNG  OFFICER  [aside  to  another].  We  know  now 
who's  General  of  this  hospital.  Old  Sillery  has  got  tight 
hold  of  her  apron  strings.  Isn't  he  a  blithering  ass? 
But  my  word,  hasn't  she  an  eye? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  With  your  cooperation  and  the 
cooperation  of  these  gentlemen,  [she  looks  at  the  group 
of  surgeons  and  officers  with  a  sweet,  serious,  searching 
glance  that  forces  the  eyes  of  each  one  to  look  into  hers] 
we  shall  not  fail.  It  is  from  lack  of  cooperation  that  most 
plans  fall  fallow — unless  the  plans  are  contrary  to  the 
will  of  God.  If  necessary,  I  can  draw  on  private  funds. 

LORD  STRATFORD  [ignoring  her  hauteur  to  himself,  and 
impressed  by  her  personality'}.  Do  not  hesitate  to  call 
on  me;  we  really  have  all  we  need,  and  there  will  be  no 
necessity  for  you  to  draw  upon  private  funds. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  That  is  tremendously  encourag 
ing.  Then,  of  course,  [to  MAJOR  SILLERY]  there  are 
plenty  of  sheets  and  pillow  cases  and  all  the  bare  neces 
sities  for  these  poor  men. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  I  regret  to  say  we  haven't  a  dozen 
sheets  at  our  disposal ;  and  there  are  more  than  seventeen 


64  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

hundred  men.  I  suppose  the  idea  is  that  when  you  can't 
do  for  all  you  had  better  do  for  none.  We  are  getting  on 
with  literally  nothing  at  all. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [to  LORD  STRATFORD].  Yet  you 
say  you  have  all  we  need. 

LORD  STRATFORD.  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  heard 
all  this,  Sillery. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  It's  most  regrettable.  I  don't  know 
whose  business  it  is. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [earnestly'] .  May  I  make  it  mine 
from  now  on? 

MAJOR  SILLERY.    With  all  my  heart,  yes. 

YOUNG  OFFICER  [aside  to  another] .  Now  isn't  he  an 
ass?  It's  a  good  thing  he  did  not  say  head,  for  he 
hasn't  any  to  give. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  With  your  permission,  we  will 
now  go  into  the  hospital,  dispose  ourselves,  and  take 
stock  of  the  needs  of  the  wounded.  Must  these  poor 
fellows  remain  on  the  ground? 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  For  the  moment,  yes.  We  are 
packed  almost  to  the  inch,  but  a  number  will  die  off  in 
the  night. 

A    messenger  comes  and  hands  a  note  to   MAJOR 
SILLERY.    He  reads  it  and  looks  terribly  annoyed. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  The  Andes  is  here  off  land  with 
five  hundred  and  forty  wounded  consigned  to  this  hos 
pital.  What  we  are  to  do  with  them,  I  don't  know. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  6$ 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  will  go  with  you  at  once  into 
the  hospital  and  we  will  do  our  best.  Lord  Stratford, 
will  you  kindly  accompany  us? 

LORD  STRATFORD.    If  you  will  excuse  me 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Impossible  [and  she  includes  in 
a  glance  all  the  others  standing  about}.  Lord  Stratford, 
we  can  not  have  you  reproach  us  again  with  the  fact  that 
you  have  not  been  made  aware  of  this  situation.  The 
situation  here  [she  looks  about  the  courtyard]  is  evi 
dent.  Major  Sillery,  will  you  lead  the  way?  Lord 
Stratford  and  I  will  follow.  Selina  [to  MRS.  BRACE- 
BRIDGE],  will  you  bring  in  the  nurses? 

LORD  STRATFORD  with  much  ill  humor  goes  forward 
with  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  and  the  others  follow. 

YOUNG  SURGEON  [who  has  been  watching  them  as 
they  go  under  the  entrance,  turning  to  another  surgeon} . 
She  got  Stratford  very  cleverly.  How  he  must  hate  her! 
For  my  part  I  respect  her.  And  old  Sillery's  hers,  mind 
and  soul.  He  knows  a  superior  officer  when  he  meets  one. 

ANOTHER  SURGEON.  She  knows  her  business.  She 
will  keep  those  women  in  order.  With  that  wonderful 
eye  and  manner  she  ought  to  be  a  general. 

SURGEON.  Hasn't  she  an  eyes  and  a  manner?  Did  you 
see  her  smile  at  one  of  those  poor  devils  on  a  stretcher? 
I'd  rather  have  her  smile  than  her  frown.  Heavens!  [he 
draws  closer  his  cloak].  It  gets  damp  here  as  night 
comes  on. 


66  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

LORD  STRATFORD  [comes  out  of  the  hospital  walking 
very  fast;  they  all  salute. ,]  Ugh!  I  never  smelt  such  a 
stench  in  my  life!  [Goes  out.~] 

IST  SURGEON.    Stratford  is  in  a  nasty  temper. 

20  SURGEON.  Miss  Nightingale  can  match  it,  I'll 
wager. 

IST  SURGEON.  No,  I  think  she  has  a  just  temper. 
That's  the  kind  that  brings  obedience.  I  shan't  mind 
calling  her  my  Chief. 

20  SURGEON.  Lord  Stratford  will  laugh  and  say  you 
are  in  for  a  flirtation. 

IST  SURGEON.  He  is  not  such  an  ass  as  that.  Miss 
Nightingale  is  out  of  reach  in  that  way.  Even  Stratford 
would  know  that. 

Night  becomes  darker.  One  of  the  nurses  comes  out, 
approaches  the  surgeons,  curtsies. 

NURSE.  Miss  Nightingale  begs  that  you  will  spare 
her  a  few  minutes,  if  convenient;  and  could  you  kindly 
let  her  have  all  the  orderlies  not  on  important  duties. 

IST  SURGEON.    Very  good. 

20  SURGEON.    I  will  go  fetch  the  orderlies. 

They  both  follow  the  nurse  into  the  hospital. 

WOUNDED  SOLDIER  [trying  to  draw  himself  into  a  dif 
ferent  position,  calls  out  to  another,  lying  at  a  little  dis 
tance].  Comrade,  you  of  the  i2th  there — before  I  get 
out  of  sound — will  you  remember  my  name?  'Tis  Jack 
Stump  from  Cambridgeshire.  There's  an  old  woman  and 


^FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  67 

a  lame  lad,  and  there's  a  horse — God!  wot  a  horse! 
Tell  the  lad  I  got  six  wounds,  and  tell  the  old  woman 
I'd  give  Heaven  for  a  bit  of  ale  and  a  puddin'  on  the 
settle  by  the  fire.  That  horse  were — that  horse  were 
mine,  I  tell  ye.  Do  you  hear  me,  you  of  the  i2th.  I 
wants  to  see  him  [he  begins  to  sob]. 

20  SOLDIER  [lying  near  a  stretcher}.  I  hear  you,  man. 
It's  queer  now.  I  was  thinking  of  some  rabbits,  and 
IVe  got  a  wife  and  IVe  got  a  child,  but  I'm  thinking  o' 
them  rabbits.  What  do  you  make  out  of  that  now? 

3D  SOLDIER  [on  the  stretcher].  Damned  if  I  know. 
I'd  like  to  eat  one;  my  stomach's  all  right  if  my  leg  is  off. 
Say,  you  there,  what's  that  smell  from  over  yonder? 

20  SOLDIER.  'Tis  the  dead  bodies.  They'll  have  to 
bury  them  here,  sure  enough. 

AN  OLD  MAN  [lying  on  the  ground}.  I've  been 
thinking  here  now  these  two  hours  as  I'd  rather  they 
left  me  here  than  put  me  there  [pointing  to  the  bar 
racks].  The  rats  ain't  so  oncoming  here,  and  it  don't 
stink  so  heavy.  Now  the  lady's  come,  we'll  get  a  bit  of 
soup.  She's  a  straightener,  she  won't  stand  for  no  dirt — 
I  knows  her  sort. 

30  SOLDIER  [on  stretcher}.  She  looked  at  me.  I  don't 
know  how  she  knew  I  had  sent  in  my  papers — but  she 
did. 

4TH  SOLDIER.  If  she  ain't  the  Blessed  Virgin,  she's 
her  twin.  She  looked  at  me  and  I  felt  holy.  I  could 
smell  the  incense  in  the  old  church  at  home. 


68  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

STH  SOLDIER.  Holy  you!  I  knew  I  was  going  to  get 
my  food  when  she  looked  at  me.  I  smelt  food. 

YOUNG  BOY.  She's  beautiful,  and  so  cold  and  still. 
My  fever  went  when  she  looked  at  me. 

STRETCHER-BEARER  [who  has  been  killing  vermin  in 
his  hair].  Here  in  the  night  I  know  'taint  natural,  the 
way  she  saw  each  one  of  us.  Something  tells  me  'taint 
natural. 

3D  SOLDIER  [to  the  wounded  boy} .  Tis  queer,  now.  I 
was  sodden  cold,  and  the  lady  when  she  looked  at  me 
made  me  feel  warm;  and  you're  burning  hot  and  she  made 
you  feel  cool.  As  you  think  of  it,  'taint  natural. 

WOUNDED  BOY.  It's  strange  how  one  minds  the  night 
more'n  the  day.  'Taint  cause  it's  cold.  Can't  be  too 
cold  for  me,  I'm  burning  up;  but  'tis  lonely.  Them  stars 
now,  they  are  the  darndest  lonely  things  going;  and  the 
lady  is  as  far  off  and  cold  as  them;  but  I'm  not  all 
alone  since  she  looked  at  me. 

OLD  SOLDIER.  The  boy's  flighty.  He  was  allus  read 
ing  poems  in  the  papers  before  the  fever  got  him.  The 
lady  will  make  things  right.  I  know  the  look  o'  her 
sert.  She's  a  straightener,  like  my  missus. 

4TH  SOLDIER.  Blow  up,  you  old  ass! — like  your  missus 
indeed!  She's  the  Blessed  Virgin.  When  a  man's  sent 
in  his  papers,  he  knows  what's  natural — and  what's  not. 

BOY.    I  feel  her  coming. 

30  SOLDIER.  God!  There  she  is  in  the  door!  Now  is 
that  natural? 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  69 

FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  and  MAJOR  SILLERY  enter 
and  stand  in  the  hospital  doorway.  She  has  a  lan 
tern  swung  over  her  arm.  Her  figure  is  more  than 
Dually  erect,  her  face  very  pale,  her  mouth  rather 
sternly  set.  As  she  looks  down  on  the  dying  and 
dead  and  wounded,  a  wonderful  tenderness  comes 
over  her  face,  breaking  the  line  of  the  mouth  into  a 
smile  of  pitijul  tenderness. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  My  children,  my  sons!  I  am 
straining  them  to  my  heart,  but  my  head  shall  think 
clearly  for  them.  So  many,  so  many,  already  slaughtered, 
— because  we  didn't  care!  In  warmth  and  comfort,  we 
prayed  and  talked  and  slept, — while  [she  points  to  the 
courtyard]  these  agonized. 

She  goes  down  into  the  courtyard.  The  soldiers  have 
become  as  silent  as  the  dead  and  watch  her  with 
their  souls  in  their  eyes. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  Miss  Nightingale,  go  rest.  You  have 
already  done  the  work  of  a  genius,  but  you  are  human 
and  need  rest. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Ah,  rest?  {Pointing  to  a  pile 
of  corpses.]  When  and  how  did  they  rest?  And  look 
at  this  courtyard — the  men  uncomplaining  in  their  cour 
age,  their  agony.  Look  at  that  boy — so  near  his  end, 
I  hope.  Shall  I  rest  while  these  patient  lips  are  dry 
for  water? 
MAJOR  SILLERY.  Dear  Miss  Nightingale,  there  are 


70  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

hundreds  like  that.  Your  cup  can  reach  only  a  very 
few.  Do  you  believe  in  miracles? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [with  a  tittle  sad  scorn].  Not 
over  much,  my  friend.  I  believe  in  common  sense,  backed 
by  common  humanity;  in  forethought;  in  a  sane  prepara 
tion  for  what  you  know  is  coming.  Why  should  God 
perform  a  miracle  for  those  too  lazy  to  use  the  tools  He 
has  given  them?  I  take  my  heart  in  my  hands  and  hold 
it  to  keep  it  from  breaking  all  bounds  with  rage  when  I 
think  of  those  men  murdered  by  wilful  sloth.  Nine 
deaths  out  of  ten  were  preventable  and  you  hadn't  the 
means  to  prevent  them.  Why?  Because  everything  is 
everybody's  business  and  nothing  is  anybody's  business. 
Our  soldiers  have  enlisted  to  death  in  the  barracks. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  You  wring  my  heart,  Miss  Nightin 
gale,  but  you  strengthen  my  hands.  Things  will  be 
better  now. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Yes,  things  will  be  better.  We 
are  not  powerless.  Lord  Stratford  dare  not  pretend  igno 
rance  now.  I  held  him  steadily  to  a  confession  of  weak 
ness  over  the  most  stinking  part  of  the  hospital,  into 
which,  shame  upon  him!  he  had  never  been  before.  He 
tried  to  escape,  but  I  held  him  and  now  he  knows  how 
it  smells.  He  said:  "Miss  Nightingale,  this  air  is  un 
wholesome."  I  pointed  to  the  hundreds  of  wounded  and 
dying  and  said:  "They  seem  to  find  it  so — they  are 
even  dying  from  it"!  He  answered:  "Well,  there  is  no 
necessity  for  us  to  die."  I  took  my  tablet  and  said: 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  n 

"I  will  write  at  once  to  the  War  Office  that  Lord  Strat 
ford  found  the  stench  of  the  hospital  unsupportable." 
At  that,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  went,  but  he 
knows  that  he  has  to  reckon  with  us,  for  you  nobly 
backed  me,  whose  only  cause  in  life  is  the  comfort  and 
safety  of  our  troops.  You  feel  with  me?  We  work  to 
gether? 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  With  all  my  heart  I  feel  with  you! 
But  I  work  under  you.  You  are  very  wonderful. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Merely  an  old-fashioned  good 
housekeeper,  with  the  habit  of  order  and  system — two 
very  ordinary  nags.  Anyone  can  drive  them.  But  our 
house  has  been  built  over  a  sewer;  it  is  filled  with  vermin 
and  rats;  our  sick  children  are  packed  in  rows  on  the 
floor  without  cots,  or  clothes,  or  sheets,  or  food,  for  them; 
so  we  shall  have  to  drive  our  nags  with  swiftness  and 
precision.  We  must  have  first  a  lot  of  carpenters  to 
build  outhouses — a  laundry  before  all.  With  your  cause 
and  mine  the  same  I  do  not  despair,  even  in  the  face  of 
the  tragedy  at  my  feet.  [She  looks  again  broodingly 
over  the  growidJ]  How  dark  the  night!  How  silent 
these  poor  sufferers! 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  Yes,  poor  devils!  But  they  will 
have  cause  to  bless  you.  I  wish  I  could  stay  and  help 
you,  but  I  should  go  and  look  after  the  wounded  from 
the  Andes. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Yes,  go.  I  am  glad  of  your 
friendship. 


72  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

MAJOR  SILLERY  goes  out.    Miss  NIGHTINGALE  goes 
toward  a  wounded  soldier,  puts  the  lantern  down 
beside  him  and,  leaning  over,  lifts  his  head  a  little 
and  touches  Ms  lips  with  some  mixture  which  she 
carries.    He  smiles  wistfully  at  her. 
WOUNDED  SOLDIER.    Did  him  of  the  i2th  tell  my  lame 
lad  how  many  wounds  I  had? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  The  little  lad  will  know  soon. 
They  are  playing  at  soldiers  in  the  fields  of  England,  and 
your  little  lad  will  be  the  proudest  of  the  children. 

His  breathing  grows  deeper,  now  labored.  His  eyes 
lose  consciousness.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  places  him 
gently  down.  She  goes  to  another  whose  eyes  have 
drawn  her  to  him. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    What  is  it,  my  friend? 

SOLDIER.  I  have  five  children,  ma'am.  I  was  think 
ing  of  them,  but  the  pain  is  cruel. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [takes  a  tablet  from  a  small  bottle 
and  puts  it  into  his  mouth].  That  will  ease  the  pain, 
dear  friend.  [She  puts  her  hand  under  his  shirt  collar 
and  draws  out  a  crucifix  attached  to  a  ribbon  and  puts 
it  into  his  handJ]  Christ,  so  lonely  and  tortured  here,  so 
glorious  in  Heaven  to-day.  Your  children  and  I  will  be 
drawn  upward  always  by  your  pain  and  brave  patience. 
Sleep  now,  in  peace! 

She  goes  to  the  wounded  boy  who  has  been  following 
her  every  movement  with  longing. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  73 

BOY.  Mother  had  something  that  would  have  helped 
my  side.  [He  puts  his  hand  to  his  side.]  But  I  am  not 
a  baby.  I  don't  want  to  trouble  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [with  infinite  tenderness  takes  his 
head  in  her  hands}.  You  are  my  baby.  [The  boy's 
face  breaks  into  a  smile  and  his  head  falls  back.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  It  is  over  with  him,  poor  lad. 
[She  takes  a  pair  of  scissors  and  cuts  a  little  of  his  hair. 
She  kisses  his  forehead  lightly.  Taking  his  arm  to  place 
it  over  his  breast,  she  looks  at  it  with  burning  anger.] 
Starvation!  Oh,  God!  how  quickly  can  I  act  so  as  to 
prevent  this  from  happening  to  another  lad? 

A  SOLDIER  [lying  nearby,  looks  up  at  her].  You  will 
not  leave  us? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Every  night,  every  night,  I  will 
see  my  sons.  That  much  joy  of  love  I  may  have. 
[Reverently  she  looks  over  the  ground  and  into  the  up 
lifted  faces  of  the  soldiers,  who  are  dl  straining  to  seA 
her,  to  catch  a  word  from  her.  She  says  in  her  clear  and 
beautiful  voice,  breaking  the  silence  like  music] :  "He 
who  loseth  his  life  shall  find  it,"  but  [she  draws  herself 
up]  but — for  those  who  let  them  die  from  slnftlessness — 
what  shall  be  said? 

Slowly  she  passes  from  one  to  another,  the  men  fol 
lowing  her  with  their  eyes.    The  darkness  deepens, 
until  only  the  glimmer  of  her  lantern  is  seen. 
[Curtain.} 


ACT  II 

SCENE  II 

Grounds  about  the  hospital.  Everything  is  in  great 
confusion,  but  there  are  no  wounded  lying  around. 
On  one  side  a  bit  of  canvas  is  stretched  on  poles; 
under  it  is  a  large  washtub,  and  near  that  a  fire  over 
which  hangs  a  pot  for  boiling  water.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  hospital  are  planks  and  workmen.  Ma 
terials  litter  the  ground.  A  number  of  boxes  have  been 
put  near  the  hospital  door  waiting  to  be  opened.  A 
nurse  is  working  at  the  tub,  an  ORDERLY  standing  near 
her.  A  number  of  orderlies,  soldiers,  and  nurses  are 
passing  about. 

NURSE  [who  is  leaning  over  the  washtub,  stands  up, 
wrings  out  some  shirts  and  throws  them  over  to  one  side, 
turns  to  ORDERLY]  .  Unless  we  have  a  laundry  soon  we'll 
all  be  dead. 

ORDERLY.  Trying  to  do  too  much,  that's  the  way  with 
the  ladies — exactly  six  shirts  a  month  we  had  till  you 
ladies  came.  Now  I'm  damned  if  Miss  Nightingale 
don't  want  every  soldier  in  the  Army  to  have  a  clean  one 
once  a  month.  It's  not  reasonable, — gives  them  quinsy 
to  change  so  often. 

74 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  7$ 

NURSE.  Every  soldier  is  to  have  a  clean  shirt  a  day. 
Oh,  Lord,  I'm  tired.  Why  can't  she  let  us  rest  a  bit? 
Angel!  Oh,  yes,  I  know  about  angels!  And  look  at 
the  mess  on  these  grounds!  All  the  cleaners  in  London 
couldn't  straighten  it. 

ORDERLY.  I  was  just  thinking  as  I'd  never  seen  the 
damn  place  so  pretty — but  you  see  I'm  looking  at  you. 

NURSE.  Go  along  with  you!  What's  pretty  in  a 
clothes  wringer?  [She  gives  a  scream  and  jumps  on  the 
bench  by  the  tub.]  Look!  [Pointing  to  a  big  rat  run 
ning  by.'] 

The  ORDERLY  seizes  a  broom  and  makes  a  dash  for  it. 
A  number  of  other  rats  go  by  and  orderlies  and 
nurses  chase  them,  some  laughing,  some  frightened. 
Enter  DR.  SUTHERLAND  and  officials. 
DR.  SUTHERLAND  [looking  at  the  boxes'].    The  cotton 
and  flannel  are  in  these  boxes,  and  the  men  all  suffering 
for  them,  and  there  seems  no  way  to  get  them  opened. 
Literally,  lives  will  be  lost  if  they  are  not  opened.    What 
can  be  done?    Oh!  there  is  Miss  Nightingale. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  is  seen  coming  from  the  left  wing 
of  the  hospital;  as  she  walks  towards  them  she  is 
evidently  taking  note  of  the  grounds. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  and  the  officials  move  forward  to 
meet  her.  She  stops  and  looks  questioningly  at 
them. 


76  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  We  are  discussing  these  boxes;  in 
them  are  the  stores  we  need,  literally  to  save  life,  and 
they  can't  be  opened  for  at  least  two  weeks.  There  is 
such  a  lot  of  invisible  red  tape  around  then;.  Too  bad, 
too  bad.  But  there's  nothing  to  be  done. 

Miss.  NIGHTINGALE  [looks  at  him  in  amazement]. 
Nothing  to  be  done!  The  stores  here,  the  wounded  there! 
[pointing  to  the  hospital].  Nothing  to  be  done?  Open 
the  boxes! 

OFFICIAL.  Impossible,  Madam.  Lady  Stratford  will, 
I  am  sure,  bring  it  before  Lord  Stratford,  but  it  will  have 
to  be  brought  before  certainly  six  others  before  we  have 
permission  to  open  the  boxes. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  You  do  not  dare  open  those  boxes? 

OFFICIAL.    Impossible,  Madam. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  And  you,  Dr.  Sutherland,  are 
willing  to  see  your  patients  die,  so  shackled  are  you  by 
the  invisible  red  tape. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  I'm  powerless!  'Tis  really  too  bod 
but  law  is  law. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [stoops  and  takes  up  a  hatchet 
lying  near  her] .  Gentlemen,  be  good  enough  to  put  the 
responsibility  on  me.  [She  breaks  open  first  one  box, 
then  another.  To  DR.  SUTHERLAND.]  I  suppose  now 
that  the  boxes  are  opened,  you  will  not  be  afraid  to  take 
the  contents  to  your  sick?  Speak!  Are  you?  If  so,  I 
will  take  them  myself. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  77 


DR.  SUTHERLAND.    I'm  grateful,  Miss  Nightingale 
and  ashamed. 

OFFICIAL.  Miss  Nightingale,  I  think  you  have  done 
wrong.  Already  the  authorities  feel  that  you  overstepped 
your  right  when  you  engaged  two  hundred  workmen  on 
your  own  responsibility  and  paid  for  them  out  of  your 
own  private  purse.  Civilians  never  understand  army 
regulations.  We  must  report  these  things  to  headquar 
ters. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  We  are  warned  that  eight  hun 
dred  additional  sick  and  wounded  are  coming  to  Scutari. 
Which  is  important,  that  men  should  live  or  red  tape 
be  observed?  Gentlemen,  report  it  to  the  people  of 
England,  and  see  what  they  think. 

A  woman  approaches  them  in  a  state  of  great  excite 
ment;  she  has  been  crying  and  is  carrying  in  her 
hand  a  nurse's  bonnet.  They  all  look  at  her  in  sur 
prise. 

NURSE.  I  came  out,  ma'am,  prepared  to  submit  to 
everything,  to  be  put  upon  in  every  way.  But  there 
are  some  things,  ma'am,  one  won't  submit  to.  Here's  this 
cap,  ma'am!  [holding  it  out  as  though  it  might  bite  her}. 
If  the  good  Lord  had  meant  me  to  wear  such  a  thing  He 
would  have  made  me  different.  Ugh!  And  if  I'd  known, 
ma'am,  about  the  caps,  great  as  was  my  desire  to  come 
out  and  nurse  at  Scutari,  I  wouldn't  have  come. 


78  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  breaks  into  a  gay  laugh,  the  nurse 
looks  of  ended. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looks  kindly  at  her].  There, 
there,  Nurse  Jones,  don't  feel  hurt.  We  will  talk  about 
the  caps;  but  cap  or  no  cap,  we  couldn't  do  without  you 
in  the  wards.  I  am  writing  home  that  I  count  you  one  of 
my  best  nurses.  [The  nurse  hangs  her  head.']  Go, 
Nurse.  I  can't  talk  to  you  now,  because  a  number  of 
amputations  are  soon  to  be  gone  through.  I'm  afraid 
the  men  mind  losing  their  legs  as  much  as  you  mind  your 
cap.  Of  course  you  don't  like  that  cap,  but  I  want  you 
to  help  me,  Nurse. 

JONES.  Indeed,  ma'am,  I'd  give  my  life  for  you.  But 
I  won't  wear  that  cap.  [She  goes  off  wiping  her  eyes 
with  the  cap.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE,  DR.  SUTHERLAND, 
and  the  officials  laugh.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.    A  very  capable  nurse. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [whimsically] .  She  indulges  in  cut 
ting  red  tape. 

Miss  NIGHTINALE  laughs  and  turns  and  moves  off 
toward  another  part  of  the  grounds. 

OFFICIAL.  The  Nightingale  power  will  come  to  an 
end.  You  know  Mr.  Herbert  is  here.  He  has  brought 
some  more  women  nurses  and  I  think  he  will  remind  Miss 
Nightingale  that  the  War  Office  exists.  He  will  remind 
her  that  she  is  here  to  train  nurses,  not  to  alter  build 
ings;  in  short,  not  to  be  the  Commandant  of  the  hospital. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  79 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  The  War  Office  had  better  take 
heed.  The  people  of  England  are  backing  Miss  Nightin 
gale.  What  she  did  the  first  day  she  came  seemed  a 
miracle,  and  since  then  every  day  she  works  a  greater 
one.  But  she  will  not  like  the  additional  nurses.  I  would 
not  be  in  Mr.  Herbert's  boots  for  a  great  deal.  He  should 
not  have  brought  additional  nurses  over  until  she  asked 
for  them. 

OFFICIAL.    Does  she  know  that  Mr.  Herbert  is  here? 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  No,  I  must  tell  her.  [To  an  or 
derly.']  Take  these  boxes  to  Miss  Nightingale's  room. 
She  will  distribute  the  contents.  [He  turns  from  the 
official,  who  walks  off,  and  he  approaches  Miss  NIGHT 
INGALE  who  is  speaking  with  a  nurse.  Miss  NIGHT 
INGALE  looks  up  as  he  approaches  her.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Have  you  sent  the  boxes  to  my 
room? 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  Yes,  I  gave  word  to  carry  them 
over.  Your  nurses  are  becoming  very  efficient.  You 
have  had  a  difficult  task  organizing  them. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Yes,  but  fortunately  the  number 
I  am  beginning  with  is  small. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [looks  troubled].  I  am  afraid  you 
will  not  be  altogether  pleased,  but  the  work  you  did  here 
in  a  few  days  has  been  so  great  that  Mr.  Herbert  followed 
almost  immediately,  bringing  with  him  forty-seven  more 
nurses.  He  is  on  his  way  to  speak  to  you  now. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE   [in  amazement].     Mr.  Herbert 


8o  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

here?  Impossible — you  are  mistaken — and  in  regard  to 
nurses,  I  have  his  promise  that  no  nurses  are  to  be  sent 
until  I  write  for  them.  Most  assuredly,  I  want  no 
more. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  That  seems  wise,  but  I  suppose  it 
was  just  over-zeal  on  their  part.  What  you  accomplished 
at  once,  fired  the  country. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [white  with  anger] .  You  say  that 
nurses  have  been  sent  over?  Who  could  dare  take  such 
a  step?  That  it  should  be  Mr.  Herbert  is  absurd. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  But  Mr.  Herbert  is  here — indeed 
he  is  even  now  coming,  as  you  see  for  yourself.  I  hope 
he  will  convince  you  that  the  nurses  will  be  a  benefit. 
But  where  to  house  them,  feed  them,  place  them,  is  a 
miracle  that  you  only  can  solve. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  bows  and  goes  qmckly  away  as 
Mr.  Herbert  comes  nearer.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE 
waits  erect,  rigid.  MR.  HERBERT  waves  Ms  hand 
gaily — his  face  is  full  of  joy. 

MR.  HERBERT.  Here  I  am  with  forty-seven  nurses  for 
you!  [He  stops  and  looks  blank  as  he  sees  her  face.] 
Why,  Florence! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  And  your  promise,  your  written 
word!  "No  one  can  be  sent  out  until  we  hear  from 
Miss  Nightingale  that  they  have  been  required."  That 
is  what  you  put  in  the  papers. 

MR.  HERBERT.    But,  Florence,  I  thought  that  as  more 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  81 

wounded  came  you  would  want  more  nurses.    We  heard 
of  Balaclava. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Had  I  the  enormous  folly  at  the 
end  of  eleven  days'  experience  to  require  more  women, 
would  it  not  seem  that  you,  as  statesman,  should  have 
said,  "Wait  until  you  see  your  way  better'7 — but  I  made 
no  such  request. 

MR.  HERBERT.  Florence,  think  a  moment!  Perhaps 
you  will  see  it  in  a  different  light. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  have  toiled  my  way  into  the 
confidence  of  the  medical  men  by  keeping  my  hand  on 
every  nurse;  now  to  have  forty-seven  untrained  women 
scampering  about  means  disaster.  Every  nerve  has  been 
strained  to  reform  shocking  abuses.  We  are  making  a 
delicate  experiment.  At  the  point  of  success,  you  ruin  it. 

MR.  HERBERT.  The  experiment  is  as  dear  to  my  heart 
as  it  is  to  yours;  dearer,  for  you  are  concerned  in  it. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  All  women  are  concerned  in  it. 
I  hand  you  my  resignation.  There  can  be  no  divided 
responsibility. 

MR.  HERBERT.  Florence,  I  cannot  take  your  resigna 
tion,  but  I  can  take  back  all  the  women  I  have  brought 
over. 

An  OFFICIAL  comes  towards  them.  MR.  HERBERT 
looks  impatiently  at  him.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  looks 
less  haughty,  more  troubled. 

OFFICIAL  [bowing] .  Mr.  Herbert,  I  am  commissioned 
by  Lord  Stratford  to  say  that  he  is  not  responsible  for 


82  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

the  innovations  Miss  Nightingale  has  made;  and  he 
hopes  that  the  War  Office  will  instruct  Miss  Nightingale 
as  to  the  limitations  of  her  power. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  passes  her  hand  over  her  forehead 
a  little  wearily. 

MR.  HERBERT  [fiercely'].  Say  to  Lord  Stratford  that 
the  War  Office  puts  no  limit  upon  Miss  Nightingale's 
powers.  God  Himself  seems  to  have  made  them  un 
limited. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  raises  a  protesting  hand  and  looks 
at  MR.  HERBERT. 

MR.  HERBERT  [continuing}.  Say  also  to  Lord  Strat 
ford  that  I  have  apologized  to  Miss  Nightingale  for 
bringing  over  nurses  without  her  permission.  She  has 
convinced  me  that  they  will  only  add  to  her  many  diffi 
culties. 

The  OFFICIAL  bows  and  goes  out. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Oh,  Sidney,  Sidney,  you  are 
generous.  Forgive  my  awful  temper.  Look  at  me.  Do 
you  want  to  make  me  weep? 

MR.  HERBERT.  No,  Florence;  only  to  make  you  know 
how  England  prizes  you,  to  beg  you  to  suffer  our  over- 
zeal  patiently.  We  have  done  wrong,  but 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [fervently],  Sidney,  there  must 
be  no  buts  in  this  venture.  If  it  were  merely  a  personal 
matter  we  might  make  mistakes.  But  it  isn't  a  personal 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  83 

matter.  Look  about  you.  This  wretched  courtyard  is 
only  the  least  of  the  disorders  here. 

MR.  HERBERT  [looking  about] .    It  is  very  shocking. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  If  the  rats  and  vermin  had  a 
united  purpose  they  could  carry  the  entire  hospital  into 
the  War  Office — you  and  I  will  do  it  instead. 

MR.  HERBERT.    Shall  I  take  the  women  back? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  No.  I  will  look  them  over,  sift 
them  out,  now  that  they  are  here.  I  will  do  my  best  at 
this  end ;  but  you  must  go  home,  Sidney,  and  work  there. 

MR.  HERBERT.  You  do  not  want  me  to  see  how  you 
must  try  to  keep  my  meddling  from  being  disastrous. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  admit  as  much  generosity  as 
that.  But  you  must  work  in  England,  and  I  here;  and 
one  day  you  will  bring  before  Parliament  a  bill  containing 
the  work  of  our  united  lives — and  the  statements  we  give 
shall  be  true,  the  remedies  vital.  I  live  for  that  day. 

MR.  HERBERT.    That  day  seems  far  off. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Not  so  very  far  off,  I  believe; 
and,  Sidney,  if  you  could  see  the  passing  of  my  poor 
soldiers — oh,  so  many,  so  many  of  them — silent,  heroic, 
uncomplaining,  in  the  face  of  incredible  wrongs!  To 
serve  them  is  my  life. 

MR.  HERBERT.    And  mine  to  serve  them  through  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looks  searchingly  at  him], 
Through  God,  you  mean. 

MR.  HERBERT.    Through  you. 

\Curtam\ 


A  period  of  six  months  intervenes  between  the  second 
and  third  scenes.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  has  been  to 
the  front  where  she  contracted  a  severe  illness,  and 
is  now  being  brought  back  to  Scutari. 

SCENE  III 

Grounds  before  the  Barracks  Hospital.  Everything  is 
clean  and  in  order.  A  large  tent  on  the  left  side  of 
the  hospital  has  been  put  up  with  chairs  and  tables 
and  books  for  the  soldiers'  recreation.  To  the  right 
of  the  hospital  is  seen  a  laundry,  and  decent-looking 
men  and  women  are  passing  to  and  fro.  A  number  of 
soldiers  on  crutches  are  wandering  about.  An  excited- 
looking  group  of  officials  is  standing  at  the  entrance. 
MAJOR  SILLERY  has  a  letter  in  his  hand.  The  others 
listen  with  anxious  faces. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  How  can  we  tell  the  men?  They 
think  her  superhuman — and  she  is.  The  news  is  grave. 
She  has  so  spent  her  body  on  us  here  and  in  the  Crimea 
that  there  will  be  no  resistance  left  against  the  disease. 
The  boat  bringing  her  back  to  us  is  within  sight;  her 
coming  will  rouse  the  men.  But  if  they  bring  her  in 
dead — if  they  bring  her  in  dead — or  too  ill  to  know  us, 

84 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  8$ 

the  men  will  weep  like  babes  over  a  mother's  dried 
breasts. 

OFFICIAL.  We  shall  all  go  back  to  the  devil  of  a  mess 
she  found  us  in.  She  has  put  things  on  a  right  founda 
tion,  but  the  fools  won't  keep  them  there  if  she  goes 
to  earth. 

A  SURGEON.  You  don't  take  enough  into  considera 
tion,  Major  Siflery,  that  the  news  comes  to  us  very  late, 
and  the  fact  that  she  is  being  brought  here  must  mean  a 
convalescence  of  some  order.  We  catch  the  word  of 
England's  mad  grief  about  her,  but  at  the  same  time  we 
must  realize  that  she  has  recovered  enough  to  be  moved. 
She  was  on  the  mend  unquestionably.  What  the  voyage 
will  do,  that  of  course,  is  another  matter. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  The  men  have  just  heard  the  news. 
Ah,  see,  they,  too,  have  gone  mad.  What  a  woman! 
What  a  woman  1 

An  excited  crowd  collects  in  the  pavilion.  Numbers 
turn  their  heads  away  to  hide  emotion.  A  SURGEON 
comes  out  from  the  hospital. 

SURGEON.  It's  hell  in  the  wards.  The  men  have 
turned  their  faces  to  the  wall  and  weep.  One  man  said, 
"I  always  kissed  her  shadow  as  she  passed."  The  priest 
said,  "Kiss  your  crucifix,"  but  he  only  wept.  I  told  them 
that  she  was  to  be  brought  here,  and  some  of  them 
begged  that  they  might  crawl  out  to  the  landing  and 
meet  her  there,  and  they  said  if  she  was  dead  they  would 


86  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

open  their  wounds  and  die  too.  I  tell  you  it  is  the  very 
devil — and  these  men  are  Englishmen. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  If  she  should  be  translated  to 
heaven  before  their  eyes,  they  would  not  be  surprised; 
and  for  myself,  I  should  not  either.  No  one  knows  so 
well  as  I  the  order  she  brought  out  of  chaos  in  six  months' 
time.  No  mortal  could  have  done  it  alone.  God  was 
mightily  with  her. 

AN  OLD  SURGEON.  You  understand  that  side,  but  I 
know  how  the  men  felt.  She  is  the  very  tenderest 
creature  God  ever  made. 

A  YOUNG  SURGEON.  She  could  be  sharp  enough! 
When  some  one  suggested  using  the  carpenters  to  build  a 
chapel,  my  word,  but  she  was  angry!  She  said:  "When 
you  see  men  dying  for  want  of  a  diet  kitchen  you  suggest 
a  chapel?  What  would  you  say  to  God  in  that  chapel 
when  you  had  left  His  children  to  starve? 

OLD  SURGEON.  She  is  a  strange  being,  gentle  and 
strong,  with  the  clearest  mind  I  ever  knew. 

Messenger  approaches.  The  crowd  gather  about  the 
officials,  all  imploring  with  their  eyes  for  news. 

MAJOR  SILLERY  [turns  to  the  soldiers  and  speaks  with 
emotion].  Patients  and  servants  of  Florence  Nightin- 
gal^ 

A  SOLDIER  [from  the  crowd  in  a  broken  voice}.  She 
called  us  her  children. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.  Children  of  Florence  Nightingale! 
The  ship  bringing  our  dear  lady  is  now  near  the  dock. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  87 

She  is  being  brought  back  ill.  She,  like  you,  has  been 
to  the  battlefields;  like  you  she  has  suffered  and  will  be 
brought  in  on  a  stretcher  to  this  door  where  she  has  met 
so  many  of  you.  None  of  us  is  worthy  to  carry  that 
stretcher  when  she  is  brought  back  to  this  place  which 
she  changed  from  a  pit  of  degrading  death  to  a  merciful 
home — a  true  hospital.  All  of  us  can  testify  to  the 
miracle  she  wrought  in  six  months.  What  this  place  was 
when  she  came  to  us  you  know.  What  it  is  to-day,  you 
know.  To  whom  shall  I  give  the  honor  of  carrying  her 
stretcher? 

A  SOLDIER  [saluting] .  Pardon,  sir,  but  the  lady  always 
had  a  fancy  for  giving  the  best  to  the  weakest.  We 
who  have  done  our  last  fighting,  might  lift  her  up.  It 
would  be  a  great  last  glory  for  us.  [He  salutes  and 
retires.'] 

YOUNG  BOY  [steps  forward  and  salutes].  Begging 
your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  think  she  likes  us  young  ones  to 
have  the  most  honor,  because  she  said  we  had  the  worst 
of  it  as  we  had  not  learned  patience — begging  your  par 
don,  it  was  something  like  that.  [He  salutes  and  re 
tires.] 

ANOTHER  SOLDIER  [steps  forward  and  salutes'].  Beg 
ging  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  and  five  others  were  tossed 
off  by  the  surgeons  as  too  far  gone  to  be  worried  over 
by  them,  and  she  took  us  and  nursed  us  herself — and 
here  we  are,  all  six  of  us,  ready  to  carry  our  lady. 

MAJOR  SILLERY.    The  honor  of  carrying  Miss  Night- 


88  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

ingale's  stretcher  shall  be  given  first  to  the  youngest. 
They  will  carry  it  for  a  short  distance,  and  then  it  will 
pass  to  six  other  soldiers  for  a  few  moments,  and  so  on, 
until  as  many  as  possible  have  carried  it  a  few  steps. 
When  it  reaches  the  hospital  entrance,  then  the  hopeless 
cases  may  take  the  stretcher.  The  same  order  will  be 
carried  out  with  Miss  Nightingale's  luggage.  We  must 
start  for  the  pier;  the  boat  is  in  sight.  Greet  her  with 
the  hymn  she  loves  so  well. 

The  party  start  in  the  order  of  precedence.    A  num 
ber  of  nurses  gather  and  range  themselves  on  either 
side  of  the  entrance;  with  them  are  the  orderlies  and 
the  soldiers  too  badly  injured  or  in  too  early  a  stage 
of   convalescence  to   be   allowed  off   the  grounds. 
There  is  much  talking  among  them  and  all  seem 
under  a  great  strain. 
IST  SOLDIER.    God!  she  is  coming. 
2D  SOLDIER.    Let  us  kneel. 
IST  SOLDIER.    Stand  up,  man.    She's  no  papist. 
20  SOLDIER.    Ah,  but  she  never  scoffed  at  the  papists, 
heathen  you!     She  spoke  well  of  all  creeds;  to  do  that 
was  simple  Christian,  she  said. 

30  SOLDIER.  When  I  was  all  spent  with  cold  and 
hunger  and  vermin,  and  the  surgeons  said  they  were  going 
to  cut  off  my  legs,  I  begged  to  be  let  die;  and  then  I 
looked  and  saw  our  lady  standing  there,  white  and 
glorious,  holding  her  hands  tight,  and  her  mouth  set,  for 
my  pain.  God!  I  kept  my  eyes  on  her  and  I  was 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  89 

happy.    She  stood  there  through  it  aH   breathing  almost 
for  me. 

Music  is  heard,  grows  louder. 
A  SOLDIER.  Hush,  hush,  men!  she's  coming. 
A  crowd  slowly  approaches.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  on 
a  stretcher  is  being  carried  in  advance.  The  sol 
diers,  nurses,  officials,  and  all  stand  aside  as  the 
hopeless  cases  lift  the  stretcher  through  the  hospital 
entrance.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  opens  her  eyes,  leans 
forward  and  looks  at  the  crowd,  first  with  amaze 
ment,  then  as  she  sees  the  soldiers  weeping  in  their 
fear  for  her  and  joy  in  having  her,  her  face  lightens 
with  a  great  gladness. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [speaking  very  clearly].  Why, 
my  soldiers,  what  have  I  done  that  you  should  be  so  glad 
to  have  me? 

IST  SOLDIER.  Only  saved  us  body  and  soul.  They 
ought  to  have  made  you  a  general.  If  they  had,  we 
would  be  in  Sebastopol  now. 

20  SOLDIER.  Nay,  man,  if  her  blessed  Majesty  should 
die,  we'll  make  her  Queen.  Sure,  but  we'd  fight  for  her! 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  It's  good  to  be  home!  It's  good 
to  be  home!  God  bless  you,  my  soldiers.  But  it's  I  who 
will  fight  for  you.  Ah,  how  I  will  fight!  I  stand  at 
the  altar  of  the  murdered  men,  and  while  I  live  I  will 
fight  their  cause. 

[Curtain] 


ACT  III 

SCENE  I 

Drawing  room  in  MR.  NIGHTINGALE'S  London  "house. 
HORTON  and  a  maid  are  busy  arranging  flowers. 
There  is  a  large  window  through  which  can  be  seen 
flags  flying;  and  every  now  and  then  the  music  of  a 
band  is  heard  as  it  stops  and  plays  before  the  houset 
and  a  sound  of  voices  as  if  a  crowd  were  assembling. 
LADY  VERNEY  and  MR.  and  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  come 
in}  looking  very  excited  and  all  talking  at  once. 

LADY  VERNEY.  What  can  be  the  matter!  Where  can 
Florence  be?  I  am  so  frightened  about  her. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  We  know  she  landed  and  now 
the  whole  town  has  turned  out  to  meet  her — and  she  is 
not  there. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  The  whole  town!  I  should  say 
so,  with  the  Lord  Mayor  at  their  head,  and  just  about 
all  the  British  army;  and  I  don't  know  where  she  is. 
[He  waves  his  hands  in  despair.'] 

LADY  VERNEY.    What  shall  we  do? 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.    I  must  say  it  is  a  bit  alarming. 

HORTON  [entering'].    Lord  Herbert. 
90 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  91 

LORD  HERBERT  comes  in;  he  is  looking  very  worn  and 

ill. 

LADY  VERNEY  [running  to  meet  him\.  Sidney,  where 
is  she? 

LORD  HERBERT.    I  don't  know.    Isn't  she  here? 
LADY   VERNEY.     No,   we've   not   seen   her. — Sidney, 
where  can  she  be? 

LORD  HERBERT.  What  can  have  happened?  The 
whole  city  is  in  an  uproar  waiting  for  her.  I  could 
hardly  make  my  way  here  through  the  crowds.  Every 
soldier's  mother,  sister,  brother,  father,  are  crowding  the 
station  just  to  see  her.  You  can't  imagine  the  excitement 
and  the  disappointment. 

LADY  VERNEY  wrings  her  hands;  MR.  NIGHTINGALE 
gets  up  and  walks  up  and  down  the  room.  A  band 
stops  before  the  house  and  plays  the  national  an 
them.  All  with  one  accord  go  to  the  windows;  as 
they  do  so,  a  door  at  the  jar  end  of  the  room  opens 
and  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  comes  quietly  in.  She 
walks  with  her  usual  dignity  and  erect  carriage,  but 
very  slowly,  and  she  shows  the  strain  that  she  has 
been  under.  She  looks  about  her  with  smiling  eyes; 
and  when  she  sees  the  group  at  the  window  she 
clasps  her  hand  over  her  heart  and  steals  towards 
them. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.     My  people!     My  dear  people! 

They   turn   and  rush   towards   her;   LADY   VERNEY 

reaches  her  first  and  throws  her  arms  about  her. 


92  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  kisses  her.  MR.  NIGHTINGALE 
pushes  them  away  and,  taking  her  gently  by  the 
shoulders,  holds  her  off  from  him  for  a  moment 
while  he  looks  searchingly  into  her  face;  then  he 
draws  her  head  to  his  shoulder  and  leans  his  face 
down  upon  her;  he  then  turns  away  wiping  his  eyes. 
HORTON  and  the  maid  come  in,  showing  great  de 
light.  LORD  HERBERT  stands  apart,  looking  at 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE  with  wistful,  longing  devotion. 
She  turns  and  looks  at  him  and  holds  out  both  her 
hands;  he  goes  to  her  and  takes  her  hands  in  his 
and  stoops  and  kisses  them. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Oh,  our  Florence!  Our  Florence! 
But  we  must  wait  till  to-night  to  have  you.  Hurry,  dear 
heart,  to  the  window;  the  band  is  playing  for  you.  Oh, 
where  have  you  been?  Quick!  Show  yourself  at  the 
window  and  let  the  people  know  that  you  are  here. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [putting  out  her  hand  to  stop 
her].  No,  no,  Parthe  dear.  I  can't — I  really  can't. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  My  child,  I'm  sure  you  don't 
know  that  the  Lord  Mayor  and  the  whole  town  are  out 
to  welcome  you  home  from  Scutari. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [a  little  shamefacedly].  I  am 
afraid  I  did  know;  so  I  just  took  an  unexpected  train 
and  crept  quietly  back  here.  [She  pauses  and  listens  to 
the  shouts  outside]  Dear  me,  what  a  din.  London 
certainly  knows  how  to  say  "How  do  you  do?";  but  it 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  93 

is  really  their  happiness  that  the  whole  business  is  over 
and  not  just  a  welcome  to  me.  That  would  be  too 
absurd.  [She  laughs.]  Here,  Alice,  take  my  coat." 

The  maid  runs  forward  and  takes  her  coat;  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE  then  takes  off  her  bonnet  and  hands 
it  to  the  maid,  showing  her  beautiful  hair  cut  close. 
They  all  exclaim  together. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Your  hair!  Your  hair!  Oh,  my  poor 
love! 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  I  had  forgotten  about  your  poor 
hair.  You  have  suffered,  my  child. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE  [trying  to  look  unconcerned].  It 
looks  very  jolly,  you  know,  but  I  must  say,  my  dear,  you 
look  as  if  bed  were  the  place  for  you. 

LORD  HERBERT  sinks  rather  weakly  down  into  a  chaif 
near  the  table.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  goes  to  him. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Why,  Sidney,  I'm  ashamed  of 
you.  Do  I  look  so  shockingly? 

LORD  HERBERT.  I  can't  bear  to  think  that  I  sent  you 
to  all  this  suffering. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Dear  Sidney!  I  believe  your 
task  was  harder  than  mine,  and  certainly  you  look  as  if 
it  had  overtasked  your  strength. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Both  of  you  need  the  same  pre 
scription,  rest. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Rest!  Sidney  and  I  rest!  And 
now  of  all  times!  We  can't,  we  can't  wait  a  day  to  turn 


94  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

all  that  enthusiasm  outside  into  money  and  into  new  laws 
that  will  give  hospitals,  nursing  schools — all  that  our 
soldiers  hadn't  at  Scutari. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.    The  war  is  over. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  No,  Sidney  and  I  are  going  to 
bring  it  home  and  make  it  visible. 

LADY  VERNE Y.  Oh,  Florence,  Florence,  to-day1 — this 
day  of  your  triumph.  Forget  all  about  that — forget 
ghastly  Scutari. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.     Forget  Scutari!     Great  God! 

LADY  VERNEY.  Yes,  Florence,  Lord  Ellesman  says  that 
the  hospitals  are  empty  and  our  army  is  full  of  sturdy 
men  because  of  our  Angel  of  Mercy — that's  you,  dear; 
that's  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [interrupting  with  a  gay  laugh]. 
Oh,  is  it?  The  old  idiot!  But  go  on.  What  is  your 
Angel  of  Mercy  to  do?  Die?  Or  fold  her  wings  and  be 
made  a  fool  of? 

LADY  VERNEY.  Never  mind.  I'm  bursting  with  pride 
over  my  angel.  Oh,  listen  to  that.  \_A  band  is  heard 
and  she  runs  to  the  window.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [clasping  her  hands'].  Sidney, 
Sidney,  listen!  That  means  a  hospital. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Let  Sidney  alone,  Florence;  he 
should  go  to  bed  and  stay  there  a  month. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Sidney  go  to  bed!  He  has  to 
make  his  speech  in  four  days.  You've  had  all  my  notes, 
Sidney?  Imagine  letting  all  this  enthusiasm  go  up  in 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  95 

smoke!  [Another  band  is  heard.  LADY  VERNEY  runs 
again  to  the  window."] 

LADY  VERNEY.  It's  the  Coldstreams.  Oh,  Florence, 
come. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [laughingly].  Not  I!  But  Sid 
ney,  with  such  a  public  our  bill  must  pass  and  we'll  get 
a  hospital  for  India,  too. 

LORD  HERBERT.  I'll  do  my  best.  I  wish  I  had  your 
spirit,  Florence. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  This  will  give  you  spirit.  Such 
an  audience  as  you  will  have  for  your  speech!  [Another 
band  is  heard.] 

LADY  VERNEY.  Oh  Florence!  Florence!  The  Fusi- 
leers! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [throwing  herself  back  in  her 
chair,  clasps  her  hands  behind  her  head,  and  looks  quiz 
zically  at  LADY  VERNEY].  Oh,  Parthe,  Parthe,  are  you 
ten  years  old? 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  But,  Florence,  the  people  are  all 
crying  for  you.  You  ought  to  be  proud,  you  ought  to 
be  grateful. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  I  am  proud,  mama,  of  my  troops. 
I  am  grateful  to  God  who  has  regarded  the  low  estate  of 
His  handmaiden.  It  is  handmaidens  we  want,  and  more 
handmaidens.  And  we'll  get  them,  Sidney. 

HORTON  [entering] .    The  Duchess  of  Blankshire. 

Enter  the  DUCHESS  in  a  great  state  of  excitement. 

DUCHESS.     Florence  Nightingale,  what  do  you  mean 


96  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

by  hiding  yourself  in  here?  The  whole  country  is  calling 
for  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Oh,  no,  Duchess,  not  for  me; 
they're  rejoicing  over  the  good  things  that  are  coming 
to  our  brave  soldiers. 

DUCHESS.  Don't  argue  now,  Florence;  come  straight 
to  the  window  with  me.  After  giving  all  that  money  I 
intend  to  be  seen  with  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [sitting  down  deliberately  in  a 
chair}.  Not  one  soul  more  do  I  see,  nasty  as  it  sounds, 
until  Sidney's  speech  is  delivered  in  Parliament.  We've 
got  only  four  days  before  us  and  we  shall  have  to  work 
day  and  night.  After  that,  Duchess,  we  can  argue,  and  I 
shall  want  some  more  use  of  your  purse.  But  you  haven't 
said,  "How  do  you  do?"  to  me. 

DUCHESS.  I  think  you  are  behaving  outrageously; 
you,  whom  all  these  poor  fellows  outside  are  calling  an 
angel. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  {laughing} .  Oh,  honors  are  pour 
ing  in  on  me.  They've  named  a  war  horse  for  me,  too. 
Dear  Duchess,  don't  be  cross  with  me.  I  simply  can't 
face  all  those  people  out  there  to-day. 

DUCHESS  [impatiently}.  William  Nightingale,  you 
will  just  have  to  put  her  to  bed.  We'll  say  she  had  a  re 
lapse;  that's  the  only  way  out. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  That  will  do  nicely;  only  don't 
say  that  I  have  lost  my  mind,  for  I  want  to  be  convincing 
when  I  ask  for  money  for  reforms. 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  97 

DUCHESS  [haugktUy].  It's  not  at  all  amusing,  Flor 
ence.  I'm  not  going  to  stay  and  talk  to  you  in  your 
present  state  of  mind.  Have  them  call  my  carriage. 
Oh,  I  forgot  I  had  to  leave  it  because  of  the  crowd- 
never  mind,  I'm  not  going  to  miss  it  all  even  if  I  have  to 
go  on  foot. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [with  mock  repentance}.  I  am 
just  a  shy  little  body,  and  not  a  great  duchess. 

DUCHESS.  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you,  Florence. 
[She  goes  out  with  hauteur.  All  laugh  except  MRS. 
NIGHTINGALE,  who  looks  annoyed.] 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  Do  you  really  mean,  Florence, 
that  ill  as  you  are,  you  are  going  to  continue  working 
with  Sidney  on  this  speech? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Mama,  I  must.  Unless  this 
speech  is  made  and  our  bill  passed,  all  we  have  done  is 
merely  a  passing  breath. 

MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  But  the  hospitals  are  empty;  the 
war  is  over. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  War  over!  [Her  face  becomes 
terribly  sad.]  Ever  since  the  world  began  we  have  said 
just  that.  No!  In  the  future,  we  must  be  prepared,  our 
hospitals  must  be  ready,  our  soldiers  fit,  our  nurses 
trained.  Here  [she  takes  a  small  package  from  her 
pocket}.  This  is  a  bit  of  grass  I  gathered  at  Inkerman 
dyed  with  our  soldiers'  blood.  It  is  my  gift  to  the 
War  Office.  Unless  they  mend  their  ways,  it  will  cry 
out  against  them  at  the  judgment-seat.  Here,  Sidney, 


98  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

with  this  bit  of  grass,  and  that  mad  enthusiasm  outside, 
and  my  notes — facts,  facts,  facts  that  I  can  give  you — 
your  speech  will  carry  the  House  away. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Florence,  don't  drive  Sidney  too 
hard. 

LORD  HERBERT.  No,  thank  God  she  is  driving  me. 
I  might  in  my  weariness  forget  that  our  soldiers  have 
been  treated  like  slaves.  Florence,  you  do  well  to  re 
proach  me. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [goes  to  him  and  puts  her  hand 
on  Ms  shoulder].  No,  Sidney,  not  reproach  for  you. 
You  are  the  very  source  of  all  our  inspiration.  But  you 
feel,  as  I  do,  that  neither  of  us  may  be  ill  until  your 
speech  is  made.  Then  we'll  think  about  it. 

HERBERT  and  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  withdraw  somewhat 
apart.  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE  goes  slowly  to  the  win 
dow.  A  band  is  heard. 

LADY  VERNEY  [sits  down  in  a  chair  and  buries  her  face 
on  her  hand].  Oh,  Florence,  why  won't  you  see  them? 

HORTON  [entering,  speaks  excitedly].  Oh,  Miss  Flor 
ence,  the  wounded  troops  from  the  Crimea  are  in  front 
of  the  house  and  they're  begging  for  a  sight  of  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [her  face  full  of  excited  emotion] . 
My  wounded  soldiers  wanting  me  and  I  here  whole !  Oh, 
I  must  see  them! 

She  rushes  to  the  window  and  throws  it  open  and 
looks  down  upon  them;  then  stands  with  outstretched 
arms.  A  great  shouting  is  heard  as  she  is  seen,  and 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  99 

in  a  moment  the  enormous  volume  of  the  military  sa 
lute  is  heard.  LADY  VERNEY  turns  and  throws  her 
arms  about  MRS.  NIGHTINGALE.  MR.  NIGHTINGALE 
stands  proudly  watching  her.  LORD  HERBERT  stands 
erect,  then  suddenly  sits  down  and  leans  over,  his 
head  bowed  as  in  prayer. 

[Curtain] 


ACT  III 

SCENE  II 

Drawing  room  in  the  NIGHTINGALE  house  in  London.  A 
maid  is  arranging  the  room.  A  BOY  comes  in  with 
two  big  bags  of  mail;  they  seem  very  heavy  and  he 
drops  them  to  the  floor,  wiping  his  forehead  with 
his  pocket  handkerchief. 

BOY  [to  the  MAID]  .  Beauty,  I  wants  to  ask  you  if  this 
'ere  apartment  is  the  Post  Office  of  the  City  of  London? 
'Cause  if  it  is,  I  asks  a  'igher  wage. 

MAID.  Ignorance!  I  suppose  you  don't  know  who 
Miss  Florence  Nightingale  is? 

BOY.  Don't  I,  though!  The  whole  world  knows  that. 
Queens  come  to  see  her,  and  kings.  You  bet  your  eye  I 
know  that.  And  it's  proper  they  should  pick  out  the 
beauty  of  London  to  look  after  her.  But  don't  you  let 
any  of  them  dressed-up  servant  monkeys  they  fetch  along 
with  the  Royalties  make  eyes  at  you.  I'll  punch  their 
'eads  off  if  they  do. 

MAID.  Listen  to  the  child!  Much  good  my  beauty 
does  me.  The  Royalties  have  to  come  here  as  plain  and 

quiet  as  tradespeople;    not   so  much  as  one   footman 

100 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  101 

would  she  'low  a  queen.     Put  those  bags  close  to  that 
little  table  there  by  the  couch,  and  run  off  like  a  good  boy. 
The  boy  puts  the  bag  near  the  table  she  indicates, 
and  is  about  to  make  some  demonstration  of  dis 
tracted  affection,  when  he  hears  a  step;  whereupon 
he  kisses  his  hand  to  the  laughing  maid  and  makes  a 
rapid  escape.     The  MAID  goes  on  with  h*j  'dating 
and  LADY  VERNEY  comes  in. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Alicia,  stop  your  dusting  £nd  help  me 
arrange  the  letters. 

The  MAID  puts  down  her  duster  and  begins  to  help 
LADY  VERNEY  to  take  the  mail  from  the  bags.  They 
arrange  it  in  piles  as  neatly  as  possible  on  the  little 
table. 

MAID.  I  don't  see  how  Miss  Florence  stands  it, 
ma'am!  She  so  delicate  like,  too.  Each  morning  I  comes 
in  and  finds  her  settin'  at  that  table  exactly  where  she 
were  settin'  when  I  gives  her  the  pile  for  the  night.  And 
she  a  great  lady,  too.  Where's  the  use  of  being  a  lady, 
ma'am,  if  you  has  to  work? 

LADY  VERNEY  [smiling].  Where's  the  use  indeed! 
But  [listening],  I  think  I  hear  Dr.  Sutherland.  Bring 
him  here. 

The  MAID  goes  out.    Enter  DR.  SUTHERLAND. 
LADY  VERNEY  [looking  up  at  him  with  a  little  nod  of 
welcome] .    What  indefatigable  friends  Florence  possesses. 
Day  in  and  day  out  you  work  for  her.    [She  pauses,  looks 


102  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

at  him  quizzically.]  A  little  like  a  door-mat,  you  poor 
man!  Don't  be  cross;  I'm  nothing  but  a  proud  feather 
duster. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [seems  in  great  good  spirits] .  Lady 
Verney,  are  you  as  happy  as  you  should  be?  Miss  Night 
ingale  gives  Lord  Herbert  the  last  items  to-day.  He 
makes  Ms: Mai  speech  in  the  House  to-morrow  and  our 
work  is  .done.,  .* 

XADY  -YEENinrV  And  high  time  it  is,  too,  if  he  and 
Florence  are  going  to  survive  their  speech. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  The  speech  in  the  House  to-morrow 
contains  all  Miss  Nightingale's  ideas  for  the  complete 
reorganization  of  the  War  Office.  What  a  moment  it  will 
be  for  her! 

LADY  VERNEY.  My  sister  will  say  that  it  is  all  Lord 
Herbert's  work,  though  she  has  actually  written  the 
speech  for  him,  I  believe.  Ah,  well,  women  have  to  work 
through  men,  and  there  is  no  greater  or  more  generous 
man  than  Lord  Herbert. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  A  friendship  like  the  one  between 
Lord  Herbert  and  Miss  Nightingale  is  seldom  seen  in 
this  world.  I  would  call  it  a  passionate,  pla tonic  friend 
ship  and  it  makes  an  irresistible  power. 

LADY  VERNEY  [screws  her  face  up  a  little  dubiously]. 
Quite  so;  they  work  as  one  person.  She  calls  him  her 
master,  but  I  suspect  he  is  really  her  tool. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [gravely'}.  The  tool  is  worn  out. 
Thank  God,  it  is  the  tool  that  is  worn  out,  and  not  the 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  103 

master  spirit.    We  must  make  Miss  Nightingale  see  how 
very  ill  Lord  Herbert  is. 

LADY  VERNEY  [anxiously] .  What  would  happen  if  he 
were  unable  to  make  his  speech  to-morrow? 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  Unless  he  is  able  to  make  it  to 
morrow  or  very  soon,  all  our  days  and  nights  of  labor 
would  come  to  nothing.  This  bill — do  you  know  what 
it  means?  Nothing  short  of  the  entire  reform  of  caring 
for  the  British  Army  in  health  as  well  as  in  sickness. 

LADY  VERNEY  [wearily].  Don't  I  know  it!  Have  I 
heard  of  anything  else? 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  I  thought  when  I  was  helping  her 
at  Scutari  that  her  work  was  miraculous,  but  it  was 
nothing  compared  to  what  she  has  already  put  through 
in  this  room.  [He  looks  around  him.] 

The  door  opens  at  the  jar  end  of  the  room  and  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE  comes  in;  she  is  exceedingly  frail, 
seeming  to  carry  her  erect  body  entirely  by  the  force 
of  her  spirit.  Her  eyes  are  steady  and  somber,  the 
lines  of  the  mouth  resolved;  she  looks  at  the  pile 
of  mail  scrutinizingly ,  almost  as  though  she  could 
see  through  the  wrappers.  She  glances  casually  at 
LADY  VERNEY  and  DR.  SUTHERLAND.  DR.  SUTHER 
LAND  goes  forward  quickly  and  helps  her  to  her 
couch.  DR.  SUTHERLAND  and  LADY  VERNEY  re 
main  standing  near  her  waiting  for  her  to  speak. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [with  a  bright  smile 'at  DR.  SUTH 
ERLAND].  Don't  let  us  talk  about  the  speech.  I  must 


104  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

just  quiet  myself  with  other  things  until  Lord  Herbert 
comes.  [She  begins  looking  over  her  mail.  She  opens 
a  note,  glances  through  it  and  laughs.]  Since  that  letter 
of  mine  to  the  papers  in  support  of  the  voluntary  move 
ment  I  have  received  forty-one  offers  of  marriage.  I 
could  have  as  many  husbands  as  Mahomet's  mother,  but 
did  woman  ever  want  a  lover  as  much  as  I  want  that 
bill  to  go  through?  Never!  [They  laugh.  She  throws 
the  letter  aside  and  opens  another.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [glancing  over  another  note]. 
Senseless  sentimentalist!  Poems!  Seventy-nine  poems 
in  the  last  month,  and  in  all  I  figure  as  an  angel.  Now 
what  is  there  in  me  like  an  angel? 

LADY  VERNEY.    Nothing  at  all,  my  love. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [laughs].  Angels  fold  their  wings 
sometimes.  Do  you  ever?  And  they  haven't  talons. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [laughs].  You  think  that  I  do 
not  answer  my  letters  sweetly  enough;  but  what  will 
you?  When  I  write  civilly,  I  have  a  civil  answer — and 
nothing  is  done.  When  I  write  furiously,  I  have  a  rude 
answer — and  something  is  done.  And  I  do  want  things 
done.  They  must  be  done.  I  am  not  sure  of  the  execu 
tive  ability  of  angels,  even  in  Heaven;  but  on  earth  they 
are  certainly  only  fit  for  memorial  windows — and  tomb 
stones.  Really,  Parthe,  it  is  very  trying  to  be  called  an 
angel  when  one  is  absorbed  in  drains.  However,  I  must 
flutter  my  wings  for  this  young  poet,  as  he  seems  to  have 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  105 

more  money  than  rhythm,  and  is  inclined  to  part  with 
some  of  it  for  our  medical  school. 

LADY  VERNEY.  Florence,  to-morrow  you  will  have  a 
strain  you've  not  known  before,  the  strain  of  bearing  joy. 
Won't  you  to-day  send  Dr.  Sutherland  away  and  rest 
until  Sidney  Herbert  comes?  Remember,  you  have  a 
perishing  body. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Rest!  Am  I  not  resting?  This 
is  a  day  of  triumph  for  us.  Herbert  should  be  here  now. 
Dr.  Sutherland,  do  you  take  it  in  that  our  work  is  done? 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [looking  very  critically  at  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE  speaks  in  semi-serious  voice].  You  may 
live  through  the  day  provided  you  eat  one  biscuit — or 
two. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [laughing] .  After  my  return  from 
the  Crimea,  you  said:  "Let  me  write  your  epitaph  and 
put  you  quietly  to  bed  for  your  friends  to  nurse  and  feed 
and  hang  poems  on  your  bed  post."  Ever  since  I  have 
known  you  you've  been  saying,  "Well  done,  good  and 
faithful  servant,"  but  not  yet  has  my  Lord  said  that, 
and  until  He  does,  I  work,  and  work,  and  work,  for  the 
British  Army,  than  which  there  is  nothing  nobler  and 
more  abused  on  earth.  They  shall  have  the  best  medical 
schools,  the  best  sanitation,  the  best  physical  culture, 
the  best  hospitals,  that  the  mind  of  intelligent  and  grateful 
men  can  devise.  They  shall  be  sent  to  the  battle-fields 
by  their  country  as  fit  as  human  care  can  make  them; 


io6  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

and  as  long  as  there  is  breath  in  their  bodies,  they  shall 
know  intelligent  human  gratitude.  I  am  so  determined 
on  this  that  I  will  give  up  health  and  joy  in  life  to  its 
accomplishment.  Now,  need  we  talk  further  about  it? 
Why  doesn't  Sidney  Herbert  come? 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [laughing] .  I  care  for  the  cause,  too, 
but  I  don't  want  to  see  you  offered  up  as  a  sacrifice,  even 
to  the  British  Army.  And  you  are  putting  great  pres 
sure  on  Lord  Herbert,  though  you  must  see  that  he  is 
ill.  Miss  Nightingale,  he  is  very  ill. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  111!  I  do  see  that  he  is  ill;  they 
tell  me  that  he  has  been  so  for  a  long  time;  yet  think 
of  what  he  has  done.  No  man  has  ever  done  so  great 
a  piece  of  work  for  humanity.  To-morrow  it  will  be 
established.  His  and  my  work  is  on  the  crest  of  comple 
tion.  It  will  pass  on  into  the  great  river  that  flows 
from  the  throne  of  God. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  And  yet  again  I  say  that  he  is  very 
ill ;  and  the  Under-Secretary  has  great  power  to  block  his 
moves. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  He  was  ill  when  he  entered  the 
House  of  Lords,  but  would  he  ease  himself  by  giving  up 
the  Secretaryship  of  War?  No,  he  kept  on  in  order  that 
he  might  put  his  whole  force  into  establishing  his  work. 
After  his  glorious  preparatory  work,  after  beating  the 
Minister,  do  you  think  he  would  let  himself  be  beaten  by 
an  Under-Secretary?  No,  no,  Lord  Herbert  is  spent — is 
ill — but  he  will  put  this  through.  I  know  him.  What 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  107 

does  building  schools  and  hospitals  matter  if  the  old 
system  of  holding  no  one  responsible  remains?  Sidney 
Herbert  beaten?  Never! 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  Perhaps  you  are  right.  There  is 
nothing  more  to  be  done  except  this  speech.  You  have 
marshaled  your  facts  until  they  shine  out  like  lanterns 
illuminating  a  black  room.  Lord  Herbert  has  only  to 
use  them  to  make  the  situation  clear,  and  that  he  will  do 
to-morrow. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Yes,  and  our  army  will  be  saved 
for  all  time.  I,  even  I,  whom  you  call  dead,  feel  new 
life  running  through  me.  Was  there  ever  such  a  loyal, 
dull,  heroic  animal  as  the  rank  and  file  of  our  army?  Can 
you  not,  Dr.  Sutherland,  see  that  graveyard  on  the 
Bosphorus?  The  thousands  of  graves  about  the  glisten 
ing  white  shaft  which  the  Queen  raised  to  her  honored 
troops?  Ah,  the  irony  of  it!  We  know  how  they  died, 
and  why — her  neglected,  murdered  troops.  We  will 
make  a  pilgrimage  to  those  graves,  not  with  flowers  or 
palms,  but  with  documents  that  will  ensure  the  safety 
from  such  a  death  for  all  the  troops  who  follow  after 
them.  Lord  Herbert  has  now  all  the  cards  in  his  hand. 
He  will  soon  be  here.  I  think  I  could  almost  walk  from 
here  to  Scutari,  treading  the  ocean  for  very  joy. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.    It  would  be  like  you  to  try  it. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Parthe,  will  you  have  my  dinner 
sent  up,  and  tell  papa  and  mama  I  cannot  see  them  to- 


io8  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

night?    Oh,  why  is  Sidney  late?    He  must  know  I  am 
on  fire  with  impatience. 

LADY  VERNEY  [looking  up  and  listening].  That  may 
be  Sidney  now.  You  two  tired  dears,  don't  work  too 
hard.  [Exit.] 

The  maid  comes  in  and  announces  LORD  HERBERT. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE  draws  herself  up  from  her  coucht 
her  face  lighting  with  enthusiasm. 
DR.  SUTHERLAND  [smiling] .    May  I,  humbly,  as  your 
medical  adviser,  suggest  that  you  sit  down? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [remains  standing,  smiles  at  him, 
and  shakes  her  head] .  Please  go. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  goes  out  by  one  door  as  LORD  HER 
BERT  enters  by  another.  DR.  SUTHERLAND  pauses 
for  a  moment  as  he  leaves,  to  look  at  LORD  HERBERT 
with  alarmed  concern. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [taking  a  step  forward  to  meet 
LORD  HERBERT,  with  great  joy  in  her  eyes] .  Sidney,  the 
cards  are  ours.  We  may  sing  our  song  of  triumph.  We 
will  make  our  pilgrimage  to  Scutari.  Oh,  the  foul  can 
cer  that  broke  there  shall  be  for  the  healing  of  the  na 
tions! 

LORD  HERBERT  has  gone  slowly  towards  her  and  meets 
the  joy  in  her  eyes  with  unutterable  sadness.  As 
she  talks  he  bows  his  head.  As  she  finishes  he 
looks  up. 

LORD  HERBERT.    Florence,  my  poor  Florence. 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE   [with  deep  concern].     You  are 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  109 

tired,  I  know,  I  know,  but  you  have  only  to  make  your 
speech  to-morrow  and  all  is  done.  Oh,  I  urge  you  to  only 
one  fight  more,  the  best  and  last.  Just  one  push  more! 
And  lean  on  me,  put  every  burden  on  me.  You  will  only 
have  to  speak — just  one  little  effort  more,  my  friend. 

LORD  HERBERT.  Florence,  I  cannot  make  even  a  ges 
ture.  I  cannot. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  {fiercely'] .  Cannot!  You,  Sidney 
Herbert,  cannot!  Ah  [persuasively],  you  don't  mean 
it.  Sidney,  you  are  tired.  See,  see,  my  friend,  I  am 
strong.  I  will  do  all  the  labor.  Truly,  most  of  it  is  done. 
Sit  down  and  rest,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  to  do.  You 
have  found  it  difficult  to  speak,  I  know. 

LORD  HERBERT.  Difficult!  It  was  like  addressing 
sheeted  tombstones  by  torchlight.  Florence,  look  at  me. 
With  your  frail  strength  you  are  beating  the  dead — I  am 
dead. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [with  growing  anxiety'].  Sidney, 
just  think  quietly  of  the  work  that  is  behind  you.  You 
will  see  how  very,  very  little  remains  to  be  done — only 
the  last  act. 

LORD  HERBERT.  The  last  act  is  over,  Florence.  I 
have  sent  my  resignation  to  the  War  Office. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE'S  hands  drop  helplessly  to  her 
side;  she  looks  at  LORD  HERBERT  with  horror,  and 
her  words  jail  slow  and  labored  and  as  solemn  as  the 
toll  of  a  funeral  bell. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.     Cavour's  death  was  a  blow  to 


no  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

European  liberty,  but  a  greater  blow  has  come  when  Sid 
ney  Herbert  is  beaten.  No  man  in  my  day  has  thrown 
away  so  noble  a  game  with  all  the  winning  cards  in  his 
hand. 

LORD  HERBERT.  It  is  true!  My  poor  Florence,  my 
poor  Florence,  I  must  leave  you.  I  grow  weak.  [He 
holds  out  his  hands  for  a  moment  with  a  pathetic  ges 
ture,  turns  and  goes  slowly  to  the  door.  On  reaching  the 
door,  he  turns  again  and  looks  towards  her  with  great 
pity  in  his  eyes,  but  she  stands  like  one  turned  to  stone, 
erect,  with  her  hands  still  jailing,  palms  outward,  by  her 
side,  her  lips  parted,  her  eyes  like  the  dead.  The  door 
closes  behind  LORD  HERBERT.  She  continues  standing 
motionless.  DR.  SUTHERLAND  comes  quietly  in.} 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [going  towards  her}.  Miss  Night 
ingale! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [starts,  clasps  her  hands,  sighs 
deeply,  then  speaks  wearily} .  Lord  Herbert  has  resigned 
as  Secretary  of  War.  Our  work  has  failed. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  Ah,  my  friend,  be  content  with  the 
work  you  have  both  done,  it  is  enormous — it  is  in 
credible. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [impatiently}.  What  does  it  mat 
ter  what  I  have  done?  The  thing  is,  what  can  I  do  now? 
I  must  make  friends  with  the  new  Secretary  of  War. 
Ah  [she  puts  her  hand  over  her  heart  as  ij  in  pain},  we 
must  induce  him  to  cut  out  the  old  red  tape.  Our  work 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  in 

all  to  be  done  over  again.    Sidney  Herbert  beaten  by  an 
Under-Secretary!     Sidney  Herbert! 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.    Think  of  all  he  has  done. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  To  fail  at  the  critical  moment — 
what  does  it  matter  what  you  have  done  before  that  mo 
ment? 

The  MAID  comes  in  and  lights  the  lamps. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [to  DR.  SUTHERLAND].  Leave 
the  papers  with  me.  I  will  go  over  them  to-night.  They 
must  be  revised. 

DR.  SUTHERLAND.  Again  let  me  urge  you  to  rest,  or 
let  me  stay  and  work  with  you. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  No.  You  are  very  good,  but  I 
shall  work  better  alone.  Come  to  me  in  the  morning. 
[She  draws  the  lamp  nearer  to  her  and  begins  working, ] 

DR.  SUTHERLAND  [looks  at  her  sadly].  You  will  put 
yourself  in  the  grave  before  Lord  Herbert.  [He  goes 
out.] 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  goes  steadily  on  reading,  revising, 
making  notes.  The  lamp  grows  dimmer.  She  draws 
her  shawl  about  her  and  moves  nearer  to  the  light. 

[Curtain] 


ACT  III 

SCENE  III 
The  next  morning 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  is  still  sitting  in  exactly  the  same 
position  as  at  the  close  of  the  last  scene.  The  lamp  is 
no  longer  burning.  The  MAID  comes  in;  she  seems 
accustomed  to  seeing  Miss  NIGHTINGALE  working  at 
this  hour. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looking  up].  Bring  me  my  tea, 
Alicia,  and  tell  Lady  Verney  that  I  will  not  see  her  until 
luncheon  time. 

MAID.  Begging  your  pardon,  Miss  Florence,  but  Lady 
Verney  said  I  was  to  tell  you  that  she  must  see  you  after 
you  had  your  tea  and  roll. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  moves  a  little  impatiently,  goes 
on  working.  The  MAID  leaves  the  room,  returning 
in  a  few  moments  with  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  roll.  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE  drinks  her  tea,  leaning  back  on  the 
couch,  but  all  the  time  keeping  her  eyes  on  the  pa 
pers.  As  she  puts  her  tray  aside  and  again  draws 
her  papers  to  her,  LADY  VERNEY  comes  in. 
112 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  113 

LADY  VERNEY  [going  to  her  and  kneeling  beside  her 
speaks  in  a  voice  shaken  with  emotion} .  Florence! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looking  at  her  sharply}.  What 
is  it? 

LADY  VERNEY.    My  poor  Florence! 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Is  it  Sidney  Herbert?  Is  any 
thing  wrong  with  him? 

LADY  VERNEY.    Florence,  ke  is  dead. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [remains  perfectly  stitt,  looking 
at  her  sister}.  No!  my  God,  no! 

LADY  VERNEY.  Oh,  my  dear,  his  last  words  were  of 
you.  He  said:  "Florence,  poor  Florence!  Our  joint 
work  unfinished!" 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Are  you  mad  to  tell  me  that? 
Dead!  Sidney  Herbert  dead!  The  cup  of  water  for  the 
thirsty  broken !  The  open  hands  for  the  starving  closed ! 
There  is  no  wisdom,  no  gentleness  in  the  world,  with  his 
voice  hushed.  My  harsh  voice  racked  him  in  his  dying 
moments,  and  he  had  sweetness  and  pity  for  me.  See, 
sister,  the  most  despicable  creature  on  earth  sits  before 
you — and  the  noblest  is  dead.  [Her  hands  drop  in  her 
lap  and  she  seems  alone,  remote.} 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE  comes  slowly  into  the  room.  He 
looks  with  grave  apprehension  at  FLORENCE  and 
questioningly  at  LADY  VERNEY.  LADY  VERNEY  looks 
at  him  and  shakes  her  head  as  if  in  despair.  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE  seems  unaware  of  her  father's  pres 
ence.  He  goes  near  her. 


114  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  Florence,  I  must  speak.  One  of 
the  greatest  men  in  England  has  been  with  me  this  morn 
ing.  He  came  as  soon  as  he  heard  of  Sidney's  death. 
He  bids  me  say  to  you:  "Will  you  let  all  your  work  fail? 
It  is  you  we  have  depended  on,  not  poor  Sidney." 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [looks  at  him  unseeingly,  speaks 
as  if  to  herself].  How  strong  I  am.  How  very,  very 
strong  this  flesh.  Others  die — I  cannot.  Sidney,  my 
master — I  have  your  forgiveness,  I  know.  I  hear  your 
dear  voice  say,  "Do  you  not  think  I  know,  my  Florence?" 
But  I  shall  never  forgive  myself.  I  let  my  dear  master 
stand  dying  before  me  and  I  would  not  see. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE.  We  know  your  loneliness,  Flor 
ence.  His  death  leaves  you  dreadfully  alone  in  the  midst 
of  your  work.  [Miss  NIGHTINGALE  shudders  and  puts 
her  hand  to  her  heart.]  We  are  poor  tools  after  Herbert, 
but  we  are  your  tools,  useless  without  your  brain  and 
hands.  Sir  John  McNeil  implored  me  a  few  moments 
back  to  say  to  you  that  your  work  is  your  life  and  that 
you  can  do  it  alone.  He  begged  me  to  say  that  to  a 
spirit  like  yours  it  is  even  sustaining  to  be  alone. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [fiercely].    Blind  fool  to  say  that! 

LADY  VERNEY.  Florence,  dearest,  Sidney  was  so  ill. 
A  few  days  more  or  less — what  does  it  matter? 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  Obtuse  to  grief!  A  few  days 
more  or  less?  Ah,  for  one  little  second  more  of  my  be 
loved  one's  life!  Do  you  know  of  closed  lids — your 
light  shut  out?  of  sealed  lips — your  inspiration  hushed? 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  115 

Just  one  little  moment  more  out  of  all  time  to  say  "For 
give  me,"  and  to  see  that  answering  heavenly  sweetness 
of  his  smile,  and  to  hear  my  master  say  "Have  peace!" 
Oh,  I  am  alone  with  strangers. 

MR.  NIGHTINGALE  [with  dignity}.  We  are  not  stran 
gers,  Florence.  And  I  repeat  from  my  heart  the  words 
Sir  John  McNeil  has  just  said  to  me,  that  many  more  may 
fall  around  you,  but  you  are  destined  to  do  a  great 
work  and  you  cannot  die  until  it  is  done.  Go  on!  To 
you  the  accidents  of  mortality  ought  to  be  as  the  falling 
leaves  in  autumn. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  makes  a  little  beseeching  gesture 
as  if  she  begged  them  to  be  silent.  Her  eyes  jail 
upon  a  paper  on  the  table;  she  picks  it  up,  looks  at 
it  with  horror. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE.  His  speech!  My  God!  His 
speech!  [She  lets  it  jail  to  the  ground.]  His  speech  un 
said!  [Throwing  back  her  head  with  a  light  uplifted 
movement,  she  stands  erect,  as  if  looking  into  the  future.] 
It  shall  be  said!  [Pause.]  Work!  work  alone,  compan- 
ionless,  that  is  my  destiny.  The  years  of  joyless  work 
shut  me  in — I  submit.  My  beloved  master,  do  you  hear 
me?  I  was  wrong,  you  have  not  failed.  I  will  live  and 
finish  your  work.  I  see  you  smiling  and  waiting  for  me. 
I  will  come,  bringing  your  sheaves  with  me. 

[Curtain] 


SCENE  IV 

Forty  years  later.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE'S  sitting  room  in 
South  Street.  Miss  NIGHTINGALE,  a  very  old  woman, 
is  sitting  upon  her  couch  propped  up  by  pillows.  She 
is  surrounded  by  a  brilliant  array  of  high  officials, 
delegates  from  almost  every  nation  in  the  world.  Con 
spicuous  are  the  representatives  of  the  Navy  and  Army 
of  Great  Britain.  Members  of  the  Red  Cross  are 
present,  and  a  number  of  trained  nurses  from  various 
hospitals  wearing  their  uniforms. 

AN  OFFICIAL  [bowing  before  Miss  NIGHTINGALE 
speaks  in  voice  full  of  emotion].  The  nations  of  the 
earth,  here  represented  [he  turns  toward  the  assembly, 
who  have  moved  a  little  back  of  Miss  NIGHTINGALE], 
speak  to  you  through  my  voice.  But  how  can  words 
carry  the  heart-beats  of  humanity?  They  ask  me  to  put, 
with  England's,  their  highest  honors  at  your  feet.  The 
Freedom  of  the  City  of  London  has  been  given  you — but 
what  can  that  mean  to  one  who  has  the  Freedom  of  the 
City  of  God?  The  chief  honor  His  Majesty  has  to  give, 
the  Order  of  Merit,  he  gives  you — but  what  can  that 
mean  to  one  who  hears  the  "Well  Done"  of  her  God? 
But  all  these,  our  poor  human  honors,  are  yours,  in 

116 


FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  117 

humility  and  gratitude  for  the  crooked  paths  you  have 
made  straight,  and  the  tears  you  have  wiped  away.  I 
place  them  at  your  feet,  the  feet  of  Florence  Nightingale, 
[as  he  speaks  the  name  of  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE  every 
hand  is  raised  in  salute]  who  took  the  soldiers'  road,  for 
whom  the  battle  has  never  ceased,  and  who,  in  all  the 
long  years,  has  never  had  a  furlough. 

He  places  the  Order  of  Merit  on  her  lap,  the  other 
medals  and  papers  at  her  feet.  While  he  is  speaking 
Miss  NIGHTINGALE  remains  leaning  on  her  couch, 
remote,  unattending.  As  he  places  the  medals  and 
honors  before  her  she  looks  at  them  and  about  at 
the  brilliant  company  in  some  bewilderment;  then 
she  looks  at  the  spokesman. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [slowly  and  questioningly'] .  Too 
kind — too  kind.  What  have  I  done  that  they  should  be 
so  kind? 

Music  is  heard  in  the  distance;  men's  voices  are  sing 
ing:  "The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war."  Miss 
NIGHTINGALE  leans  eagerly  forward;  her  face  be 
comes  radiant,  alive. 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE  [in  a  clear  tone  of  voice].  My 
hymn! 

The  veterans  from  the  Crimea  come  marching  in, 
singing: 

' 'They  climbed  the  steep  ascent  of  heaven 
Through  peril,  toil,  and  pain; 


n8  FLORENCE  NIGHTINGALE 

O  God,  to  us  may  grace  be  given 
To  follow  in  their  train" 

Miss  NIGHTINGALE'S  face  becomes  transfigured.  She 
leans  further  forward,  lifting  her  hand  in  an  attitude 
of  intense  expectation;  her  eyes  look  off  into  the 
jar  distance. 

[Curtain} 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


' 


OCT    24  1935 


FFR  9.R  196: 


COOK 

JAN  1 »  1957 


ffeCD  LD 


1V65-6PM 


T 


MAR  1  3  1963 


LD  21-100m-7,'33 


JB  31 970 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


